Small Towns
by RubberDuckiez
Summary: A string of murders of young women from the same graduating class takes the team to a small town in Oklahoma. But when they get there, they discover there is much more to the story than expected. And it may involve a determined investigative reporter who has come back home to solve the crimes herself.
1. The Fourth

**The Fourth**

"So… Oklahoma… anyone been there before?" Luke asked as the team sat in the jet going over their new case. They had a brief rundown before getting on the plane, but the local authorities were desperate to get them in so they hadn't had much time before leaving. It took four deaths to call in help but once they swallowed their pride, it was the utmost urgency to get the BAU team there as quickly as possible.

"We've had a few cases there over the years," Reid said, looking over the case file. "Though none in quite as small a town as Whitehall. Says here the population is about 2,000 and has been for the past few decades."

"And just why are we being called in?" Matt asked.

"Well, the town doesn't really have the resources for this sort of thing. In fact, there hasn't been a murder there in its over 100-year history," Reid replied. "They called in the state investigation bureau and they were the ones who called us in after the fourth body was found two days ago and they still had no leads."

"What are your thoughts so far?" Emily asked, looking around the group.

"Well, since the bodies were burned, there's a lack of DNA and other physical evidence. But the unsub is sticking to a pattern. He kills them within 24 hours of abducting them and always leaves them in fields," Reid rattled off. "There's obviously some sort of message he's trying to send - though the state investigators can't seem to figure it out. If the local authorities know, they haven't shared it."

"Connections between the victims?" Emily said.

"Too many," Rossi said. "Problem with a small town. Everyone knows everyone. They were all young women of the same age. All grew up there. All knew each other. All went to the same high school."

"But at the same time, that's where they end. They don't physically look the same. Two were married, one divorced. One had a kid. For all purposes, outside of living in the same town and running into each other at the store, they weren't connected," Reid said.

"So they all went to the same high school. Perhaps the unsub is selecting women in the area from that particular class," Luke said. "Are there others living in or near the town from that graduating year?"

"A few, but it looks like most of them cleared out after the second murder and have been staying with family or friends in other cities or states," JJ said.

"Don't blame them," Tara replied.

"What about the drop sites? Are they in the same location?" Matt asked.

"No. In fact, they are all on opposite sides of the town from each other," Reid said, frowning as he looked at a map. "North, south, east and west. And they were displayed near roads… hoisted up on posts and then burned, but they appeared to have been tortured before then… There's significance there. Historically, witches were burned at the stake. Possibly the unsub thought they were blasphemous? Or women of loose morals? It is a small town in the Bible Belt."

"Again, they don't all fit that description. At least not from what the reports we have say. As far as we know, victims 3 and 4 were happily married," Rossi said. "And three were regular churchgoers - one wasn't."

"The backgrounds on the victims is still a bit scant. Any reason for that?" Reid asked.

"The state investigators said the town is closing ranks. They struggled to get much out of them. Even the local authorities are running into roadblocks," JJ said.

"And they think we'll do better? We're all outsiders to them," Matt commented.

"Regardless, there is a town in panic and wondering who could be next. He's been killing every two weeks, so if he sticks to that pattern, we have a bit over a week and a half to find him," Emily said. "Let's nail this bastard as quickly as we can."

* * *

"If we weren't here for an investigation, I'd say this was pretty charming," Tara said, looking out the window as they drove down main street. "Seems they've kept a lot of the original structures."

"From what I've read, Whitehall was first settled in the late 1880s, but wasn't incorporated until Oklahoma became a state in 1907," Reid said, still going through files.

"The land run?" Tara asked, looking over at him.

"Around there," Reid said.

The car came to a stop outside of a small redbrick police station and the agents poured out from the two SUVs, walking up to a tall man in a tan uniform and cowboy hat. He had dark hair and looked to be in his late 30s or early 40s.

"Just want to thank y'all for coming," he said, walking up to Emily with his hand out. "Sheriff Randall Walker, but most everyone calls me Randy. We got y'all set up in the conference room inside. Don't got much space, but givin' ya as much as we can. Still working out your accommodations, unfortunately. With all the press and such comin' around, it's been tricky. Might end up having to put you up in another town."

"Thank you, Sheriff," Emily said as they began to follow him in. "And we'll be fine wherever you find room."

The police stations was small and one large room. Several desks were spread about, with cautious officers looking up at them while they continued with their work. At the back of the room were two offices separated from the rest of the room with glass.

"Right. Nearly forgot there's something I should mention," he said with a sigh as he stopped and looked over at Prentiss. Visible through the window in his office was a young woman, pacing as she chewed her thumb nail and sent furtive glances at the group.

"Who is she? A witness? Family member?" Emily asked.

"Actually, she's a reporter," Walker said.

"We're not talking to the press at this time. We just got here," JJ said immediately. "I thought we made that clear."

"It's not like that… she's not here to- well. She's been helping us. Got into town just after the first murder," Walker replied. The FBI agents all stared at him.

"What do you mean she's been helping?" Emily asked. "And why didn't you mention this earlier?"

"I wasn't sure how you'd take it," Walker admitted. "But I swear, she's not writin' stories. She's been working the investigation with us. She's got experience in this sort of thing."

"What experience?" Emily asked, feeling like she was starting to play 20 questions.

"She's been an investigative reporter with The New York Times for the past several years. Even wrote some books on the cases she worked. To be honest, she's got more experience with murders than any of us do," he said.

"Why would the Times be interested in this case?" Tara asked.

"They aren't at the moment. She's here on sabbatical because she is," Walker said. "She grew up around here." He looked at the group, taking in their skeptical looks. "Just… talk to her first. She's been getting further with the families than we could. The state investigators too."

"I'm still not completely comfortable with a member of the press being in on the investigation, Sheriff," Emily said. Walker sighed heavily and stopped, looking around the group.

"You ever heard of the book 'Highway Paved in Tears'?" he asked.

"The book about the murders along Highway 16 in Canada. It won a Pulitzer last year," Reid said immediately, not surprising anyone in the group.

"That was her," Walker said. The group all looked towards the office, watching the woman again. "If anyone is going to do this right, she will."

"And you're sure you trust her?" Rossi asked.

"More than some of the men on my force," Walker said bluntly. "And as I said, she grew up here. She's got insight on this case that even we don't and most of us have lived here our whole lives."

Emily looked at JJ, the two of them silently communicating with each other.

"I'm not saying you have to give her access to everything. I'm just saying… don't shut her down and don't dismiss her right away," Walker said. "You'll likely need her too." Emily sighed.

"We'll talk to her in the conference room," she said, leading the group over.

"Thanks," Walker said, walking to his office.

The group made their way to the room and settled around the table there.

"Are we sure this is a good idea? Having a reporter working with us?" Matt asked, looking at Emily.

"Let's just get a good read on her. We can make a decision as to how involved we're going to let her be after that," she replied.

Walker then walked in, leading the shorter woman behind him. She stopped and looked around the room, seeming neither intimidated nor impressed by being in a room full of FBI agents. She looked young, her dark blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had dark framed glasses perched on her nose, and for all purposes could pass as a college student. She was pretty, but at the same time nondescript. She seemed non-threatening. The group could see why she would have an easy time speaking with victims based on her appearance alone.

"This is Daisy White," Walker said. "Daisy, this is the BAU from Quantico. Agents Prentiss, Jaraeu, Rossi, Lewis, Simmons, Alvez, and Dr. Reid." She nodded towards them, her gray eyes quietly studying them.

"So, they brought you guys in finally," she said, her voice even. "Suppose this is when you tell me that I'm not allowed to help anymore."

"There's no need to get defensive, Daiz," Walker said with a sigh. "I've explained everything to them and I think there is some sort of compromise we can come to."

"I'm not dropping it," she said, sticking her chin up slightly. "I've been working on this a lot longer than you guys have and I owe it to those families."

"We're not shutting you down," Emily said, standing. She kept her voice gentle, sensing that if they pushed the reporter too much, she'd run off and keep investigating on her own anyway. She'd rather keep her close and under their watchful eye. "We just need to… set some boundaries. For now. This is still an open case."

"I'm not publishing anything right now, if that's what you're worried about. If I publish, it'll be longform after the case is closed and this bastard is caught and tried," she said. "For now, I'm just here to offer my help."

"Good. If you don't mind, we'd like you to tell us everything you have so far," Emily said, motioning for Daisy to sit in the open chair. The reporter frowned. "This is a two-way street, Ms. White. You want to know what we know, then you have to share what you have."

Daisy pursed her lips slightly and then moved to sit down, sliding a messenger bag off her shoulder. She pulled out a few files, glancing back at Walker, who nodded encouragingly.

"Randy knows just about everything I do," she said, glancing around the table. "But I've spent the morning with the Reeds, so I guess I can fill you in on that."

"We have yet to question them," Rossi said. Daisy glanced at him.

"Everyone else has," she replied. "And well… Marley was an old school friend, so I thought I could get farther with them." She continued rummaging through the bag. Emily cast a worried glance towards the sheriff. "If you're worried about me being too close to this, I'm not. I'm a professional first."

"The Reeds were a bit more open to speaking with Daisy than with us. Becky's family as well," Walker added. Daisy pulled out a notebook and flipped through it, browsing through the shorthand.

"I hadn't really kept in touch with Marley since I left for college, but we had the occasional Facebook chat here and there," she said, stopping on a page.

"What can you tell us about her? From your perspective?" Rossi asked. Daisy looked up from her notebook, her eyebrows raised. She sighed and put the notebook on the table.

"She went to OSU, married a guy from high school a couple years older. They settled on a patch of land owned by her family. She's got a little girl - Addie. She's 7," Daisy said. "Went to church every Sunday and Wednesday and for all intents and purposes had a happy life. She was involved in the community as well as her church. She and Mike didn't have any problems in their marriage."

"Did you know the other women?" Emily asked.

"It's a small town. Everyone knows everyone," Daisy replied. Walker cleared his throat behind her. Daisy rolled her eyes. "Yes. We were all in the same graduating class."

The team looked at each other and back at the journalist. Immediately they were all wondering if they had a potential victim sitting at their table.

"You do realize that the unsub appears to be going after women specifically from your class," Emily said carefully.

"Trust me, he's not after me," Daisy said ruefully. "I left town after graduation and hardly came back. He's been going after people with stronger roots here." Walker frowned at her.

"Been trying to convince her to at least keep a guard on her, but she refuses," he said to the group before directing his comments to Daisy. "Your roots here are just as deep as those others, probably deeper than some."

"Randy, I've been living in New York City since I was 18. I can take care of myself," she said, turning in her chair to frown at him.

"Still, I'd feel better. You're out at that big house outside of town by yourself," he said. He looked around the room, starting to smile slightly as an idea hit him. "How about this? Let the team stay there. You've got all that space and we only have the one small motel. It's mostly full of reporters coming and going. Makes sense for them to stay with you and away from the media circuit." Daisy glared at him as the team shared looks. What kind of house did she have that would fit all seven of them?

"Just what has gotten in that thick head of yours, Randy? Those rooms haven't been used in years," she said.

"I can get Mrs. Battle on the phone in a second and she'll have 'em ready before y'all even get there tonight," he said. "'Sides, what would your grandmother say? She was always hostin' folks before she passed." Daisy narrowed her eyes at him before huffing and turning back around, glancing around the table.

"Fine," she said, still frowning. Walker looked pleased as he looked around the room.

"We appreciate it," Emily said. "Really."

"Don't mention it," Daisy replied, though her thoughts were clearly written on her face.

"So… is there anything else you can tell us right now?" JJ asked, getting the conversation back on track and off less touchy subjects.

"Well, I've spent most of my time retracing their steps and figuring out their lives after high school - we didn't really keep in touch that much," she said. "I personally followed Becky and Marley through Facebook. But the others, even in school we didn't really run in the same crowd."

"Daisy here was the town rebel back in the day," Randall added, earning another scowl from the reporter.

"Really, Randy?" she said.

"I take it you have some ideas about the murders," Emily said, sitting up and leaning towards Daisy.

"Some. I mean, he is going after women from the same graduating class," Daisy said. "All of them were living in or near town. But outside that, not much. Two were married, two weren't. Marley is the only one with a kid. No one went to the same university - Becky didn't even go. Vanessa only moved back a year ago after her divorce was final."

"What about in high school?" Rossi asked. "Any overlap there besides the obvious? Anything we might not catch?"

"Vanessa and Toni were in the popular crowd - Vanessa was old blood. The rest… I wouldn't say they were nerds or unpopular, but they weren't in the same group," Daisy said. "Marley, Becky and I would hang out a lot then and they stayed close after school."

"What do you mean by old blood?" Tara asked.

"The founding families," Walker said. "There are five considered old blood - Carmichaels, Martens, Beauchamps, Fischers and Whites." Daisy kept her face down as she started flipping through the notepad. She could feel eyes studying her, causing her cheeks to heat up.

"Toni's family has been here a few generations, though not as long. Everyone was born and raised here save Marley. Her family moved in when she was about four," Daisy added. "They bought the old Beauchamp ranch west of town and turned it into a bed and breakfast and guest ranch."

"Did they spend a lot of time together recently? Some sort of community club?" Rossi asked. Daisy looked at Walker.

"Not that we've found," he said. "They didn't go to the same church. Marley was part of Junior Mothers' Club, but none of the rest were. Vanessa spent most of her weekends in the City."

"She liked to spend time in Bricktown - had some friends from college that lived there," Daisy said. "I've been up there and checked out her old haunts - none of the others frequented them. Becky and Marley went there for the occasional date night with their husbands, but not the same bars."

"What about the last one? Toni?" Tara asked.

"She had a boyfriend in Tulsa. Spent most of her free time there, but she was working in her father's law office in town most of the time," Daisy said.

"And there were no local bars they went to?" Rossi asked. Daisy snorted.

"We're a mostly dry county. The only place you can get alcohol is at the two liquor stores. Or the grocery store or gas station if all you're after is beer," she replied.

"There's a dive bar about a mile out of city limits, but we checked. None of the victims went there," Walker said.

"So that's obviously not an angle," Daisy said with a sigh. She looked across the table at Emily, automatically assuming that she was the one in charge. "What do you think?"

"We don't have enough just yet to make a complete profile," Emily said quickly. "We still need to look at the crime scenes and bodies, interview their families, check out the last places they were seen."

"Well, in that case, why don't y'all get settled in talking about that and I'll take care of Mrs. Battle for ya," Walker said with a smile. Daisy sighed as she reached for her bag and pulled out more files.

"Let's get started then."

* * *

**Trying my hand at a murder mystery. Have this almost completed. Just need to finish up the last two chapters. It'll be short though...**


	2. Make Nice

**Make Nice**

"What the hell? This is a house?" Luke asked as he pulled up to the large brick structure that could only be described as a mansion behind a small silver SUV. Even in the coming dark, it was easy to see that it was massive and sat on a large tract of land. The closest house was nearly a mile down the road.

"Well, the sheriff did mention that she was part of the founding five families in town," Matt said as Luke pulled the SUV to a stop.

"Back in the day, families tended to be larger, so it would make sense there would be a large family house passed down through generations. Though this one looks like it's been updated," Reid said, peering out the window. "Looks like its more Edwardian than Victorian, which is a bit unusual for this town from what I've seen so far. I saw several Victorians when we drove through town, but no Edwardians."

"Perhaps our hostess can fill us in on some of the history," Matt said with a smile as he opened the door and stepped out. "Though she doesn't seem so willing…"

"What did you think about her and the sheriff?" Luke asked.

"Seems protective of her. I'm guessing they could be family friends," Tara said.

"I wonder if she's got any books about the town history," Reid replied, getting out of the car and missing Luke roll his eyes slightly.

"This is… not what I was expecting," Tara said as she walked up to Daisy as the rest of the team gathered around them.

"I know… it's a bit much… but it was my grandparents' home," the younger woman said with a sigh. "Welcome to White Manor."

She motioned for the group to follow her and started up the path. She unlocked a door and pushed it open, leaving it wide for the others behind her. They immediately looked up as they walked into a large, two-story foyer complete with chandelier. She continued walking until she was standing in the middle of a hallway and turned to face them.

"So, downstairs layout. To my left in the foyer is the dining room - you're welcome to use it for whatever and to my right is the library, which is where I work. There are stairs that go up at both ends of this hall," she said. "Down the hallway to my right is the guest suite and another guest room." She then turned and walked into the den, the group following. "This is the den. Again, use at your convenience. Over here is the kitchen and conservatory, along with breakfast nook. There's also a laundry room down there."

She walked through the group back to the hallway, though half of them were too busy staring up at the ceiling that went up to the second floor.

"There are five more guest rooms upstairs, but the room just to the right of the top of the stairs is mine. You guys can decide how you want to divy up the rooms. Help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen. I will be in the library if you need me," she said, before walking back into the foyer and disappearing into a room and shutting the door behind her. After a bit, music could be heard coming through the door.

"I'm not sure what I was expecting, but this is not it," JJ said, still looking up at the ceiling.

"This place is nicer than a good amount of hotels I've stayed in," Reid said. "Though I'd really like to see the library.

"First things first, Spence. Think we should choose our rooms," JJ said, smiling slightly. She looked over at Emily. "Care to check out the guest suite?"

"Don't mind if I do," Emily said, chuckling. The two women when into the hallway and took a sharp right down the hall. Reid looked around at the group before turning and making his way towards the stairs, the rest starting to follow him.

"Holy cow," they heard someone exclaim. "Is that a jacuzzi?"

"Suddenly wishing I had taken that room," Tara said as they trudged up the stairs.

"I call dibs on this one," Reid said, walking into the first guest room. The rest made their way down to the various rooms, gradually settling in one or the other. After Reid sat his bag down, he went back downstairs and wandered into the guest suite, finding Emily and JJ settled on a loveseat.

"How many people do you know who have guest suites in their houses?" JJ asked, smiling up at Reid.

"No one. This place is even bigger than Rossi's," he said, slowly walking around the room. "Most of it seems a bit outdated, but it's still nice. I wonder what the Whites did for business."

"Whatever it is, I am grateful that we are staying here and not some flea-ridden motel. I saw it when we passed through town and it definitely looked like it had seen better days," Emily said.

"It's not that pretty on the outside, but the Parks take good care of it," a voice said from the doorway. They all looked to see Daisy walk in. "Their daughter was in my year too. She lives in Tulsa with her husband and two kids." JJ and Emily sat up on the loveseat, both looking a bit ashamed. "Just wanted to see if you guys were hungry. Mrs. Battle left a bunch of sandwich stuff and cold cuts in the kitchen."

"Thanks," JJ said, smiling at her as she stood. "We were just talking about how nice your home is." Daisy nodded as she looked around the room.

"The original home was built in 1890 when the Whites first settled. They tore it down after they built this one in 1905. That's where the horse barn is now," she said. "The Whites varied their businesses. I'm not sure what all they did, but my gramps told me stories about the Whites owning the first grocer in town and the first newspaper. It's the only way they survived through the Great Depression."

"Is that what drove you towards journalism?" Reid asked. Daisy looked over at him, an eyebrow raised.

"No. They had left the newspaper business before I was born. My gramps and dad ran a multinational household items corporation that my great-grandfather started just after the war. Though now it's run by a board. I'm on it, I guess, but I don't know anything about business so I let them make all the decisions and check in when necessary to make sure they aren't running my family company into the ground. They have an office in the City and another in New York," she said.

"Going into journalism was all me, though my mother certainly encouraged it. She got me a summer job at the local paper," she continued. "But yea, there's food if you want it."

She then walked out of the room, leaving the three standing there.

"I don't know about you, but I'm hungry," Reid said brightly as he turned and left as well.

"So, what do you think of her?" JJ asked. Emily shrugged.

"Looking over her work, Walker is right. She's been saving their asses," Emily said. "We should try to make nice, if we can. We're going to need her connections with the town."

"Also, doesn't she seem a bit… lonely?" JJ asked, dropping her voice in case Daisy was nearby. "I mean, she's put on a strong face, but I can't keep forgetting that these were her school friends. She's got to be reeling from that - seasoned investigative reporter or not." Emily nodded.

"I can't help but feel for her," she admitted. "And I'm with Walker. There's a good chance the unsub could target her next. She's one of a handful of women left in town from the class of 2003. Whether she wants to admit it, she could be in danger."

"Well then, suppose we should go see about dinner," JJ said.

* * *

"Just how many people did Mrs. Battle think were staying here?" Rossi asked as the team gathered in the kitchen, taking in the spread with wide eyes.

"You know church ladies," Daisy said wryly before taking a drink from a bottle of beer. "I'm surprised she didn't bring more, but this is likely all she could pull together in the time she had."

"And here I thought the town wasn't happy we were here," Mark said as he started filling a plate.

"Most of them aren't, but manners will always win out," Daisy replied. "They may not answer your questions, but they'll die before they're accused of not showing hospitality. Though Mrs. Battle is of the mind that you guys are a godsend. She was in a ladies church group with Grams."

"Just what was it like growing up in a small town?" Reid asked. "I've always been curious. I grew up in Las Vegas." Daisy glanced at him from where she leaned against a counter, wondering if he was trying to profile her.

"Wasn't all bad," she said. "A bit boring. Once I got my car, I spent every chance I could in Oklahoma City or Tulsa with my friends."

"Did your parents live in town too? You mentioned earlier that you moved in here with your grandmother in high school," Reid pushed. The rest of the team glanced around the kitchen at each other, not sure if Reid being his usual self or intentionally trying to get her to open up.

"We had a ranch house out in the country on some family land," she said. "We sold it after they died. Didn't see any reason to keep it when it was just me and Grams. Besides I spent a lot of time here anyway." She then pushed off the counter. "If you guys need anything, I'll be in the library." She then walked out of the room.

"Not the particularly social type," Luke commented once she was out of earshot.

"We did take over her house," Reid commented. "But from what I've gathered from her work, she tends to work alone."

"You've read her stuff?" Luke asked.

"Are you surprised?" JJ replied with a smile.

"I've read her books too. She's good," Rossi commented. "I didn't know it was her, though. Assumed she was older."

"If she graduated high school in 2003, that would put her around 33 or 34," Reid said. "So, she's definitely older than she appears."

"Something you guys have in common," Emily said, glancing at him. Reid just shrugged.

"Either way, she's talented. To be that age and this successful as a true crime writer and investigative reporter," Rossi said. "She does have a knack for it. Must have started early. Maybe in college."

"Well, she certainly doesn't seem eager to divulge her personal history," JJ said.

"She seems close with Walker. Maybe there's more he can tell us," Tara commented.

"Nah, that seems one-sided," Reid interjected. "I noticed she doesn't appear that comfortable around him. But could just be her overall discomfort from being back in her hometown after so long away."

"Whatever it is, she is our host for the time being. And I'm inclined to continue letting her work with us based off what she gave us today," Emily said. "Let's do our best not to put her out any more than we need to."

"Got it."

* * *

Spencer stood outside the closed door to the library, listening to music coming through the door. After the team had eaten and then cleaned up the kitchen, they gradually all wandered to bed, but for some reason he felt the need to check on Daisy. He also wanted a look in the library in the hopes there were some books there about the town history.

He knocked at the door hesitantly. After a few moments with nothing, he knocked a bit louder and heard the music turn down slightly. The door opened, and Daisy stood there, her face a calm mask of neutrality though there was a hint of annoyance in her eyes.

"What can I do for you, Dr. Reid?" she asked.

"It's just Spencer, if you want. Since we're going to be working together," he said. Daisy continued to stare up at him. "I was just wondering if you would mind if I browsed through your book collection? It helps me get to sleep sometimes. Reading." Daisy glanced around the room and then stepped back, letting him in.

The large room was all wood and in the shape of a heptagon, with most of the panels full of shelves of books of various ages. There was another door on the other side and windows along the front that overlooked the lawn from the desk. It looked as though here was where Daisy spent most of her time, the large oak desk covered in papers as well as the floor around it. She had lost the cardigan from earlier and her shoes were under the desk. The music was coming from the laptop, though a couple wireless speakers sat on the desk next to some photos.

However, it was the large standing board next to the desk that caught Spencer's attention as he walked straight towards it. In contrast to the rest of the library, the board was meticulously put together with documents and photos pinned up in straight rows. Post-its in various colors were neatly placed around the photos with clear, neat writing.

She had been hard at work.

"Does the sheriff know you have crime scene photos and reports here?" Spencer asked, still studying the board.

"Thought you came for a book?" Daisy asked, irritation slipping into her voice. Spencer looked over at her. "He lets me bring stuff home. I explained that I do my best thinking on my own. And up until you guys showed up, I'm the only one here. Save Mrs. Battle who comes to clean once a week. But I keep the library locked up when she's here and I'm not."

Spencer looked back at the board, studying it closely as he reached up and flipped a page up. It appeared to be a typed-up transcript of the interview with the fourth victim's husband.

"I'm impressed with how organized this is," he commented. Daisy leaned against a bookshelf, her eyebrows raised as she crossed her arms in front of her.

"I am a journalist," she commented. "Have to have a system if I want to keep the facts straight."

"Is it the story that has you so interested? Or the fact that it's your schoolmates?" Reid asked casually. Daisy bristled slightly.

"Are you trying to analyze me?" she shot back. "This isn't my first murder case."

"I know," Reid said.

"Let me make it easier for you, then. Graduated at the top of my class in high school and went to NYU where I also graduated with honors from their journalism institute. Completed an internship with the Times while in school and got offered a spot on their crime desk at graduation, that I took. Made it onto their investigative team a few years later," she said. "Published my first book at 29. Second at 32. Got the Pulitzer for that one."

Reid turned to face her, carefully watching her.

"I'm focused, determined and I always finish what that I start," she continued. "I'm stubborn, bullheaded and willing to put in the work necessary, which is what's gotten me to where I am today. Not my family's name or my family's money."

"How long have you been back in Whitehall?" Reid asked suddenly, throwing her off. Daisy frowned.

"A bit over a month," she said.

"Did you come back to visit often?" he asked.

"Came back a couple times a year before Grams died, but not much since then. She passed when I was 25," she said. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"You're trying to prove something," Reid said. "To your professors and classmates in New York. And to the town. That's what drives you. But there's another trait that you missed. Empathy. You want the people you work with to see a strong exterior, but I can see it in your interview transcripts and in the way you wrote your books - you care about the victims. Everything is about them."

There was silence as Daisy stared at him, her face even. She then took a deep breath and pushed off the bookshelf.

"What books are you interested in?" she asked, turning to look around the shelves. "There's a good variety. My grandfather was an avid reader, as was my mother. A trait they passed on to me. I brought over all her things before I sold the house. There's art, literature, history. Just about anything you could want."

"Is there anything on the history of the town?" Reid asked, keeping his distance from her. He had hit a nerve and he didn't want her to completely shut him out. Not if the team was going to keep working with her. Daisy glanced at him over her shoulder before looking back to the books. She went up on her toes and pulled a small book from the shelf.

"Most of the town history would be at the historical society. But there's one book. Written by a friend of my grams," she said, holding it out to him as she continued browsing the shelves. Reid stepped over and took it. "Didn't really fly off the shelves, but it's the only one we've got. If you want Oklahoma history, there are several books here. My grandfather was big on knowing where you came from and being proud of you roots. He's got a bunch of stuff on British history as well – that's where the Whites immigrated from before they settled in Oklahoma."

"You don't share that mentality?" he asked.

"I believe in knowing your history," she replied. "Proud of my family's accomplishments, sure. But let's just say I was eager to see what the world was like outside of this town."

"Figured that was a given with most people who grew up in a small town," Reid commented. Daisy glanced at him but returned to browsing the shelves and pulling off books.

"Not around here," she said wryly. "Seems most people were content to settle nearby." She then turned and put the books in Reid's arm. "Not sure if you'll have time to read these all, but it's a good start."

"Oh, I should have most of these finished by tomorrow," Reid said. Daisy just stared at him. "I can read 20,000 words a minute." She blinked in shock.

"Figured you were smart, but wasn't sure how smart," she commented.

"I have an IQ of 187 and three Phds," he added. "Plus, an eidetic memory."

"What I would give for that," Daisy said, offering a slight smile. "Anything else?"

"This should be good for now. I'll let you know if I need anything," he said, turning towards the open door. He then stopped and turned to face her. "Oh, wait. One more thing. What's the wifi situation like here? I have a feeling we may be working here a bit and we'll need to stay in contact with our analyst back in Quantico."

"I updated all the tech as soon as I got here. Put in high-speed internet and wifi. I'll get everyone the password in the morning before we go to the station. You're free to use the dining room if you need a home-based war room," she said. Reid smiled and nodded.

"Thanks, Daisy," he said. "See you in the morning."

* * *

**Spygoose – Thanks! I have it basically done, save for half a chapter. ^_^**

**Thanks everyone for reading and following!**


	3. Dreams of the Past

**Dreams of the Past**

_Then sings my soul… my savior God to thee… How great thou art… how great thou art…_

_The little girl slowly made her way down the aisle of the church as the congregation sung around her. She looked around, noticing that no one was looking at her. She then made a right at the front of the church walking towards a wood panel door. Every step that brought her closer, a fear started growing. But she couldn't stop walking._

_Something was drawing her there. Something out of her control._

* * *

Daisy shot up in bed, gasping as she frantically looked around the still slightly dark room. She looked across the large room towards the verandah, noticing that it was close to sunrise. Tossing the comforter off, she padded across the room and sitting area towards the bathroom at the left.

Flipping on a switch, she then walked to a sink, turning it on and splashing water on her face before turning the tap off and leaning against the counter as she studied her face in the mirror. Dark circles were nothing new to her - it was a side effect of being a journalist. Long hours and such. But her face looked a bit thinner than usual. This case was taking its toll on her and she knew why. Shaking her head, she looked back down at the sink.

The dream had started up as soon as she got word about the first murder - Toni Abbott. She didn't know what it meant. Oddly enough, she had never stepped foot in a church even though there were several in town and nearly everyone had belonged to one or another. Even her God-fearing, church-going grandmother had never questioned her parents' decision to not be religious or hers. No one had ever offered a reason why, but she chalked it up to another of her parents' quirks.

So she didn't understand now why she was dreaming about a church. Was it some sort of suppressed memory? Or just her mind playing tricks on her? She figured there was some sort of religious aspect to the murders - they were all burned at the stake. That had to be it.

Sighing, Daisy pushed off the counter and walked back into the room, grabbing a robe off the back of a loveseat there and pulling it on before she stepped over to the door leading the verandah. She unlocked it and pushed it open, leaving it open as she sank into a wicker chair with thick cushions, pulling her legs up in the chair as she gazed out over the miles of open land behind the house, waiting for the sun to make its way over the horizon.

She figured she had a bit of time before she would start getting ready. The FBI team was likely full of early risers, so she wanted to be up and downstairs before any of them. Get the coffee going. Chuckling softly to herself, she shook her head. Seemed even though she had long ago left Whitehall behind, the years away wouldn't undo all the training and platitudes her grandmother had instilled in her over the years about being a good hostess.

"You can take the girl out of the south, but you can't take the south out of the girl," she murmured. "Isn't that what you always said, Grams?"

* * *

About two hours later, Daisy was seated in the kitchen, showered and fully dressed, drinking coffee in the breakfast nook as she browsed through a tablet when Rossi walked in. She wasn't sure who would be the first in there, but she wasn't surprised to see it was him.

"I was hoping that was coffee I smelled," he said warmly. Daisy looked up at him and then motioned towards a counter with her mug.

"Got a lot over there. Figured if you guys were anything like me, you survive off it," she replied. "Also put out some breakfast stuff for anyone who ate it. Mrs. Battle dropped some of that off too." Rossi walked over and stopped, taking in the double pot maker.

"Seems like a lot for just you," he commented as he grabbed a mug and poured himself a cup.

"That would be Grams' doing," she said. "She liked to host gatherings here a lot before she died. The whole kitchen is her doing. She loved cooking and hosting things. It was probably the only room in the house she updated every year or so."

"This house seems perfect for entertaining," Rossi said as he walked over and sat at the table across from her.

"It is. Probably built that way. Nothing rich people like more than showing off they're rich," Daisy commented, looking back down at the pad. She glanced up at Rossi before returning to the screen. "Though my grandparents and parents weren't like that. Sure, they loved hosting parties and such, but they weren't pretentious about it. Just really sociable people."

"How long ago since they passed?" Rossi asked softly.

"My parents died in a car accident when I was in high school. Grams died about five years ago. Cancer," she said. "I came back to take care of her a couple months at the end. Outside of now, that's probably the longest I've been in town since I graduated."

"But you kept the house," Rossi commented.

"Couldn't bring myself to sell it," Daisy said with a sigh. "Plus, I knew Grams would come back from the grave and haunt me until I died if I did. Especially if it was to someone who wasn't a White." Rossi nodded slowly as he sipped his coffee.

"You know, I've read your work. It's really good," he said. Daisy stared at him a moment, not quite believing him. She had read a lot of his work. Respected him. But she hadn't expected that he would be familiar with hers. There were tons of true crime writers out there. Even more investigative reporters. "Seriously, Daisy."

"Does your team make a habit of reading true crime?" she asked, taking another sip of her coffee. "Or are you like Reid and read both of them last night?" Rossi chuckled.

"No, I read 'Highway Paved in Tears' last year when it came out and then your first right after," he said. "I like to keep track of up-and-coming crime writers," he said. "Also followed your work in the Times." He looked around the kitchen. "Surprised you don't have a copy."

"It's a small town, Agent Rossi. Mail comes in the afternoon and if you want to keep up with the latest news, then you need go digital or watch it," she said with a heavy sigh. "I prefer the real thing - nothing like the smell of newspapers in the morning - but tablet's the best I can do out here. Got subscriptions to all the major papers and have them delivered to my place in New York, though forwarded all my mail here for now. You should hear the postman complain when he stops by."

"Is that so?" Rossi asked, smiling slightly. Daisy nodded, studying him slightly. Before she could say anything, the rest of the team filed into the kitchen, taking in the spread.

"This is definitely better than a motel," JJ said, starting towards the coffee while Mark and Luke went straight for the food.

"Can't get any better than Southern hospitality," Daisy said, leaning back in her chair.

"Got that right," Luke said with a smile. Daisy watched them as they all got coffee and/or food, settling around the large table as they chatted amiably. Sometimes directing questions her way that she answered politely. She wasn't sure what had happened the night before, but they seemed warmer towards her. Likely just trying to buddy up so the case worked more smoothly, she thought to herself. She them reminded herself that this was just until they caught the killer. Once the case was over, they would go back to Quantico and she would go back to New York.

This was temporary. Like most things in life.

"Anyone check in with Garcia?" Luke asked.

"I did," Emily said. "Got her working on some things. We can call again when we get to the station."

"Right. Here is the wifi password," Daisy said, sliding a piece of paper towards the team leader. "Figured you all would need it. Like I said, dining room is all yours if you need it."

"Thanks," Emily said. Daisy then stood from the table and walked her empty cup to the sink, rinsing it out before placing it in the dishwasher.

"If you guys are done with the food, I'll get it put up so we can head over," she said, looking over at them.

"Think we are," JJ said. Daisy nodded and started, making quick work of it. By the time she was finished, the rest of the team was ready to go.

"If it's alright, could I ride in with you?" Reid asked Daisy, garnering a few looks. "Just wanted to pick your brain about some of the books I borrowed last night."

"Sure," Daisy said before leaving the kitchen.

"What?" Spencer asked, looking around the group.

"Borrowed some books?" Luke asked, smiling slightly.

"Questions about the town?" Mark added.

"Really, guys. What?" Spencer asked again.

"Let's go," Emily said, rolling her eyes.

* * *

"So, I found it interesting how much focus was put on the so-called founding five," Reid said after he was settled in the front seat of SUV Daisy had rented. She glanced at him as she slid on a pair of Ray Bans and started the car, quickly turning the music down so she could hear him.

"It's a small town thing," she commented, shifting the car into drive and starting down the long driveway, cracking the window a bit.

"The smell of smoke doesn't bother me. When did you start?" Reid asked, looking over at her.

"When I started at the Times," she said, glancing at him nervously. The studious man really didn't miss a thing. "I know it's bad but goes with the territory. But I try to be considerate about it. Anyway, you want to know more about the founding five? Why? Only Vanessa was part of it."

"Did any of the others have children in your year in high school?" Reid asked.

"The Martens," Daisy replied. "Cousins - Steve and Lizzie. Only Steve is still in town. The other two had kids that were either ahead or below us. I already ruled that out." Reid nodded.

"So, three of the founding families had children in the same year of high school," Reid murmured.

"Again, it's a small town," Daisy said.

"Were you friends with them?" Reid asked.

"Not really," Daisy said. "I lived outside of town while they all lived in town. And I wasn't exactly the cheerleader or varsity sports type. Nor the party-in-a-barn type."

"But you were friends with Marley and Becky," Reid said. Daisy nodded.

"We outcasts had our own group," she replied, glancing at him. "But I was on the newspaper staff with Toni. Student council with Vanessa. All of us were on National and State Honor Society. Had classes together. Again. Small town."

"It seemed your lives overlapped quite a lot in school," Reid said. "Makes it hard to figure out victimology."

"I know," Daisy said. "All we know is this guy stalked them. Knew their daily schedules and how to snatch them. Just can't seem to figure out why. And for all we know, he could be out hunting again."

"Generally, serials only stop when they are caught, die or are incarcerated for another crime," Reid said.

"I know," Daisy replied. "Again. Not my first."

The car was silent a bit, the only sound the radio.

"So, I take it you're close with the sheriff," Spencer commented. Daisy rolled her eyes.

"We're not close, but most people in town think they know my family. Being Whites and all," she said. "He's only been the sheriff a few years, but he moved here just before I left for school." Spencer nodded his head slowly.

"Is that common?" Spencer asked.

"What?"

"People moving in?" Spencer asked. Daisy shrugged.

"It happens. Not often, but it does," she said with a sigh. "So, you guys just… travel all over? Solving murders and such?"

"We take on a variety of cases. Not always murders. Sometimes we do abduction cases as well," Spencer said.

"How often do those have happy endings?" she asked.

"We get them. Still not as much as we would like," he commented.

"For once, it would be nice to cover a story that had a happy ending," Daisy said wistfully. "But suppose that's just how it goes." She glanced at him. "Anything else you want to know about the town?"

* * *

The group filed into the police station and went straight to the conference room. Daisy's eyes immediately went to the board where photos of each crime scene were displayed. She clenched her jaw slightly, her grey eyes roving over each photo before she quickly looked away and started pulling files out of her bag. It was an action that didn't go unnoticed by Spencer as he sat next to her while the briefing started.

Emily quickly ran through what she wanted everyone to do that day and they checked in with the analyst. Daisy had sat up in her chair, smiling slightly as she listened in, then shot out a few questions of her own. She seemed to instantly warm up to Garcia, though Garcia tended to have that effect on people.

Once they were done, Daisy walked up to the board, carefully studying it while the others were making ready to go on their way. She hadn't offered an explanation to what she planned to do that day, but Spencer had overheard Walker quietly explain to Emily that she often rambled about on her own and would report in throughout the day on her progress. She had been spending a fair amount of time with the victims' families lately or around town.

Spencer moved to cross the room and speak to her, but before he reached her side, Daisy had walked from the board and grabbed her bag from her chair, leaving the room.

"Where is she going?" Luke asked, looking at Walker. The man just shrugged.

"She'll check in later," he said. "I typically let her do her own thing."

"Sheriff, you said the morgue is in the basement? I'd like for some of ours to go down and look at the latest body," Emily said. He nodded and motioned for them to follow.

"Just this way."

* * *

Daisy sighed as she slid onto a stool at the diner on main street. She glanced around, noticing a lot of old-timers were in, likely hoping to beat the lunch rush.

"Back again?" a plump woman said, sliding a menu across the counter towards her. Daisy nodded and picked up the menu, looking over it.

"I'll have my usual," she said, handing it back before the woman walked off.

"Onion burger with all the fixins, tator tots and a Dr. Pepper?" the woman replied. "Been eating the same thing since you were in high school."

"Can you blame me?" Daisy said with a slight smile. The woman chuckled as she wrote something down on a pad and then stuck it over the open grill.

"Charles! You got an order!" she shouted towards the back before moving to the soda machine. She then slid the full cup across to Daisy. "Heard them FBI folks were stayin' with ya."

"They are. Sheriff thought it'd be better than a motel," she replied, watching as an older man shuffled out from the back and made his way to the grill. "And, well… got all the space."

"Sake's alive, I bet that house hasn't seen that many people since your grandmother was alive," the woman said. Daisy rolled her eyes slightly. "Lord knows that woman loved to entertain."

"Certainly did," Daisy replied.

"What're you up to today?"

"Just… tracking down some leads," Daisy said. "The usual." The woman stopped and reached across the counter to pat Daisy's hand.

"You find the son of a bitch that did this," she said softly.

"I intend to," Daisy said. The door chimed, grabbing the woman's attention as she grinned and glanced at Daisy.

"Well, I'll be. I knew the FBI was in town, but I didn't know they were handsome," she said loudly. Daisy grimaced slightly, keeping her back to the door.

"We heard this was the best place to eat in town," Luke said brightly.

"Got that right. I'm Louise and this is my husband Charles. We've owned this place about 30 years now. His daddy before that," she said. "What can I get ya?"

"What's good?" Luke asked, sitting on the stool next to Daisy. "Hey Daisy." She nodded and smiled tensely at him and Matt, who sat next to Luke.

"Where's the rest?" she asked, glancing around.

"Off working. We thought we'd get something to eat while we had time," Luke said casually as he browsed over the menu.

"We're known for our onion burgers," Louise said. "Little Miss White here's been eatin' 'em since she was knee-high to a grasshopper."

"Is that so?" Luke asked, glancing over at Daisy, who was now busying herself with a newspaper. "Little Miss White, eh?"

Daisy rolled her eyes as Louise chuckled.

"Her and her grams would come in every Sunday after church," Louise said. "With her parents a couple times a week before that. More with her friends."

"Thank you, Louise," Daisy said as the woman walked off to the fryer.

"Gotta love small towns," Luke said, now back to looking at the menu.

"Tell me about it," she muttered. She glanced around the diner, noticing that the folks there were all looking at the trio and then whispering to each other. "You guys certainly stand out."

"Is it our rugged handsomeness?" Luke asked jokingly. Daisy stared at him a moment, unsure if he was just like this with everyone or if he was flirting with her. Matt was chuckling softly on his other side.

"More like they're not used to FBI in town," she said, returning her attention to the newspaper.

"What have you been up to this morning?" Matt asked as Louise came back and dropped off a basket of tator tots in front of Daisy and looked expectantly at the two men.

"Lunch special, please," Luke said.

"Same," Matt added. She smiled and quickly wrote the order down before putting it up on the grill.

"Was out running down some leads at the town library," she said. "Didn't find anything."

"Just what leads are you looking into?" Luke asked. Daisy glanced around the diner before looking over at the FBI agents.

"Hung up on the ritual aspect," she said softly, not wanting anyone to overhear. "Seems like it could be religious."

"That's what we were thinking. Might be able to do a profile this afternoon," Luke said. Daisy nodded.

"Mind sharing with me what you're thinking? I might have some notes for you," she said before popping a tater tot in her mouth.

"Might," Luke replied. He looked around the diner. "Just can't help but wonder why this town…"

"Same here," Daisy said, frowning. "Not like anyone gets up to much here."

"No big scandals?" Luke asked. Daisy snorted and shook her head.

"Biggest scandals we get is someone's dear little daughter getting in the family way with her high school boyfriend," she replied, adopting an over dramatic accent.

"Or the occasional affair," Louise added, setting drinks in front of the men. "Get a decent amount of those, but usually they're with someone from outside of town."

"Anything in recent years?" Matt asked, looking at the older woman. Louise thought for a moment.

"None that I can recall. Last hoopla we had was when Daisy's daddy announced he was marryin' her mama," Louise said with a wink in Daisy's direction. "Then after that, when Daisy here started winnin' awards with her writin'." She motioned to the wall behind her, where there was a magazine article framed about Daisy's Pulitzer. Daisy shifted uncomfortably on her stool. "Right proud of her."

"Bet you are," Luke said, glancing at her.

"Just wish she'd try writin' about something happier," Louise said, causing Daisy to roll her eyes.

"Think that's enough about me," she said.

"Order up!" Charles shouted. Louise walked over to start making up the hamburgers.

"So, you're the town hero?" Luke asked.

"God no," Daisy replied. "Louise has been a close family friend for years. She's related on my mom's side.

"What's this about your parents?" Matt asked.

"It's not nearly as dramatic as she makes it out to be," Daisy said quickly. "So… what are you guys planning for this afternoon…"

* * *

**A bit more into the town's intricacies. If I know anything, it's a small town. And this is finished in terms of writing, though the second to last chapter needs a bit of editing and such.**

**ahowell1993 – Possibly? Maybe? I make no promises. ; )**

**Thanks for reading and following!**


	4. Something Missing

**Something Missing**

Daisy sat in the police station that afternoon, listening as Emily and the rest of the team filled in the various police officers and state investigators on what they had put together for their profile. None of it was new to her. She had already figured as much.

"He's specifically targeting these women…"

"Ritualistic in nature…"

"He's meticulous. He watches them and learns their daily routines and picks them up at a time that they are most vulnerable…"

"He leaves behind little to no physical evidence of himself…"

"He keeps them for up to 24 hours before killing them. There is evidence he tortures them, though we're not sure for what purpose…"

"He does show some mercy. Autopsy reports show that all of them were dead before he put them on the posts and burns them…"

"We have yet to determine exactly why he's choses these women, other than they are all from the same high school class. But we believe that he has some connection to the town…"

"We need to be focusing on what connects these women together. That will tell us who he intends to target next…"

She zoned out about half way through, her thoughts circling around the four women. Toni. Vanessa. Becky. Marley. Killed in that order. Something that kept sticking in her mind. The signs of torture seemed to lesson with Becky and Marley, which was unusual. Usually these guys got worse the more they continued. They became more unhinged. Their perp was exerting an extreme amount of control with each one. But inflicting the most amount of damage on Vanessa and Toni.

More and more, Daisy was coming to the conclusion that this guy was from town. He knew the everyone's reputation. Knew the town history. She glanced around the room, wondering if it was someone sitting there.

Her eyes then fell on the agents, studying them carefully. She met Spencer's eyes, shifting in her chair slightly as she quickly looked away. He had been studying her as well.

She couldn't help that out of all them, she found herself drawn to him the most. Perhaps it was his quirkiness. It reminded her of a co-worker at the Times. But at the same time, he left her unsettled. Almost as though he could read her mind. And she didn't like having anyone else in her head. It was already crowded enough with her own troubles.

"You're thinking about something. Do you think we missed something in our profile?" Spencer asked, causing her to jump slightly. She looked around the room, noticing that they had finished and were now talking with some of the officers.

"I… no. Well, I don't know," she said. "I just keep getting caught on why these women."

"Same," Spencer said, sitting next to her. Daisy frowned in concentration.

"I just keep thinking there's something I'm missing," Daisy said, falling back into the chair as she stared at the table. Something from lunch got me thinking…"

"Something like what?" Luke asked. Daisy shrugged.

"I don't know… I mean, you'd think a small town, it would be easy to figure this out," she said. "And the more I talk to people, the more I keep thinking that there's something that no one is talking about…"

"What do you think it could be?" Reid asked. Daisy kept staring at the table before shaking her head.

"I wish Grams were still here. She knew just about everything about everyone. She would know," she said with a sigh. She looked around the room, sitting up as Walker came up to her. "Sheriff… do you remember hearing about something, some sort of scandal, from the 90s?"

The man stopped and frowned a bit.

"Nothing that I can think of. That was before my time, but no one mentioned anything when I took over as sheriff," he said. Daisy nodded slowly, back to staring at the table.

"There's got to be something linking together the Reeds, Carmicheals, Abbotts and Rogers," she said. "I feel like this has got something to do with their families…"

"Did you get anything from their families?" Reid asked. She shook her head.

"They're just about in the dark as we are, well, no…," she sat up, frowning. "When I was talking to Becky's family… they mentioned something." She reached into her bag and grabbed her notebook, flipping through it quickly.

"I don't remember anything from your transcript," Reid said.

"Yea, you wouldn't," she said. "It wasn't part of the official interview, so I didn't put it in. I thought it odd but pushed it aside at the time." She came to a stop and looked up. "I remember when I went to the bathroom, I was coming back and overheard Mrs. Rogers ask her husband if he thought this was about – then she stopped. He cut her off, saying it wasn't related. I tried to circle back around to it, but they played dumb."

She then looked back at Walker, her eyes widening. "Ol' Mrs. Martens. She's still alive, isn't she?"

"Course, she is. That woman'll probably live forever just to spite her family," Walker said.

"She would know," Daisy said.

"Who's Mrs. Martens?" Reid asked, mentally going over everyone around town that she had filled them in on. Daisy looked over at him. "Is that the same Martens that you mentioned before?"

"Yep, she is. One of the town's matriarchs along with my grams. Between the two of them, they knew just about everything about everyone. She might know something," she said. "I can go talk to her."

"What makes you think this is even a lead?" Emily asked. Daisy looked over at her.

"It's… I know it's just a hunch, but I really think it's something," she said. "And if there is anything we're missing, Mrs. Martens would know."

"I can go with her," Reid said, standing. "At worst, we waste an hour. At best, maybe we find something." Emily thought it over a bit and then nodded.

"Go. But no more than an hour. We need you back," she said. "Both of you." Daisy reached down and grabbed her bag.

"Come on, Spencer," she said, not looking back. He quickly moved to follow her. She pulled on her jacket as they walked out and passed her car.

"Where exactly are we going?" he asked. "Shouldn't we take a car?"

"Don't need it. Going to the big Victorian on Main Street. Mrs. Martens has been there since the dawn of time," Daisy said. Reid struggled to keep up with her, finding the short woman moved surprisingly fast for her small stature.

"Your accent's coming back," Reid said. Daisy stopped and looked up at him.

"What?" she asked.

"Just an observation," he said. Daisy shook her head and kept walking. "Are you sure she'll be there?"

"If she's not dead she will be," Daisy replied.

They walked quickly and soon enough were standing outside a wrought iron fence surrounding a big house.

"Looks like someone's taking care of the old girl," Daisy said, pushing the gate open and walking down.

"She have family here?" Reid asked.

"Yep. Two sons, both married. Some of her grandkids stuck around as well," she said as she made her way up the stairs to the porch. She rang the doorbell and then waited. After a few moments, there were footsteps and a figure could be seen through the glass.

A woman opened the door, her eyes wide as she saw Daisy and Reid standing there.

"Well, I'll be. I heard you were in town, Daisy. Was wonderin' when I'd run into you. Haven't seen you at church," the woman said, her voice warm, though her eyes were judging. Daisy smiled.

"You know my family was never the church-going type, Mrs. Martens," she said. "How's Steve and Lizzie?"

"Oh, you know them. Doing good. And who's your friend?" the woman said, taking in Reid.

"This is Dr. Spencer Reid," Daisy said. The woman's eyebrows rose as she looked back at Daisy.

"I knew you'd find yourself a doctor or lawyer or somethin' running off to the big city," she said, smiling, though there was a level of fakeness to it. "Suspect you heard that Lizzie's husband is runnin' for state office? 'Bout to have us a politician in the family." Reid cleared his throat as Daisy shifted on her feet, her cheeks tinted in pink.

"Um, Dr. Reid is here with the FBI team that's investigating the, um, unfortunate events that have been happening lately," she said, her voice dropping in volume. The woman looked back at Spencer, now looking at him in a different light.

"I see," she said. "I'm not sure what help I can give ya. I've already spoken with the sheriff. Nearly everyone in town has. That dear Marley was part of our church congregation with her husband. That poor little girl of theirs..."

"Actually, we're here to talk to your mother-in-law," Daisy said. "It's just… it's been such a long time that I thought I would stop by and say hello. Grams'll likely skin me alive if I didn't. And well, Dr. Reid thought he'd come with me. Needed some time away from the police station, if you can understand." Mrs. Martens raised a manicured eyebrow at Daisy, almost as though she didn't believe her. But politeness and manners won out.

"Well, I suppose there's no harm in that. Though I have to warn you… Mama's getting on in years and her mind's not quite what it used to be," she said, stepping back and letting them in. "We've been trying to get her to move in with us for years, but she insists on staying here. We've got a nurse that comes by when we can't and Stevie keeps the yard lookin' good."

"How kind of him," Daisy said as they walked into the foyer and Mrs. Martens shut the door behind them, then started leading them down the hall.

"It really is a lovely home, Mrs. Martens," Reid said, looking around the house.

"Been in the family for generations," she replied, her heels clicking against the wood floors. "The Martens were one of the first families to settle in the town back in the 1880s. Been here as long as Daisy's family." Reid looked down at her, though she kept a neutral face.

"Seems there's a lot of history here," Reid commented. "I find it fascinating." Mrs. Martens chuckled.

"And just where are you from, Dr. Reid?" she asked, glancing back at him.

"Las Vegas originally. But I'm based in D.C. at the moment," he replied.

"You certainly are a long way from home," she said. "Just like our Daisy here. Run off to become a famous reporter and all. We're all still wonderin' if she's ever gonna settle down. Goodness knows I don't know how your mama handled it, God rest her soul."

"Mom handled it just fine," Daisy said, bristling slightly. "She was the one who suggested New York." If Mrs. Martens was uncomfortable, she hid it well behind her gentile laughter.

"Your mama always was an interestin' woman," she said. "Should be no surprise she landed the most eligible bachelor in town." She glanced back at Reid. "Daisy's daddy graduated the same year as I did. We were a couple years ahead of Angie – Daisy's mama - in school." Reid looked over at Daisy again, finding her struggling to keep a calm face.

Then they stepped out into a large sunroom. In a corner surrounded by large windows sat a little old woman with white hair covered in quilts.

"Mama! You've got some visitors!" Mrs. Martens said loudly and slowly as she led them over. "It's Daisy White and a friend of hers from out of town."

"Blast it all, woman, I'm not deaf!" the woman said, glaring at her daughter-in-law. "And I'm not your mama either. How many times do I need to tell you to call me Gladys?" Mrs. Martens kept her smile in place. The elderly woman then looked at Daisy and grinned. "Sake's alive, you look more like your mama every time I see you. Get over here and let me give you a hug." She held her arms out as Daisy walked over and leaned down, hugging her. "Now, you two youngin's have a seat. Shelly, why don't you see about getting us some tea."

Daisy quickly sat in the chair closest to Mrs. Martens as Reid sat in the chair next to her.

"Hope you don't mind sweet tea, Mr. Reid," Shelly said.

"It's Dr. Reid," Daisy said, looking over at her coolly.

"Sweet tea is fine," he said, smiling at her. With one more cold glance Daisy's way, she turned on her heels and strode out of the room.

"Well, that should keep her out of our hair a few minutes," Gladys said as she reached out and took Daisy's hand. "Dare say she still hasn't forgiven your mama for marrying Jacob White. Still thinks she stole him from under her nose and doesn't realize there was no way in hell that man was going to marry her."

Daisy chuckled, seeming to relax as soon as Shelly had left the room. Gladys reached out and patted her cheek.

"Still givin' folks hell, I take it," she said. Daisy nodded.

"Doing my best, Mrs. Martens," she said. Gladys looked passed her to Reid.

"And just who is your friend?" she asked.

"This is Dr. Spencer Reid. He's with the FBI," Daisy said. Gladys nodded her head as the smile faded slightly.

"It's bad news, what's goin' on. All those girls getting killed like that. Just about torn this town up," she said. "Just this Sunday, I thought Meryl Campbell was going to run after Mabel Richards with a cake knife, saying her good for nothing son was behind it all."

"Who would that be?" Spencer asked, leaning towards her. Gladys waved her hand in the air.

"Oh, it's nothing. Danny hasn't been around these parts in a good five years. She forgot he moved off to Florida with that mistress of his shortly before his divorce was final," she said. "Just folks talkin' and draggin' up any dirt they can. Even if it's ancient history. Dare say the last time this town was this worked up about somethin', it was the day your daddy and mama announced their engagement."

Daisy blushed slightly and didn't meet Reid's eyes, but she could feel him studying her.

"Surely it wasn't that big," she said quickly. Gladys laughed loudly.

"Certainly put a bee in the bonnet of nearly every single woman near his age," she said. "Mercy, your grams and I had so much fun watching all their heads explode. Then they went and lived in Boston for a few years before movin' back home."

"Grams certainly liked to stir up trouble," Daisy commented.

"Oh, it was our favorite pastime," Gladys said. "I certainly miss havin' her around. Your mama and daddy too. They were all good folks."

"I miss them too," Daisy said softly. Gladys smiled and patted her cheek again.

"You're so much like 'em. All of them," she said. "Wasn't right how you lost them all."

"Well… think I did okay on my own," Daisy said.

"That you did. They were all so proud of you. I am too. Even got Stevie and some of the great-grandkids to teach me out to use that blasted computer of mine so I could follow your stories and such. Off writing things at the New York Times," she said, beaming. "Just wish you could come visit more often, but I know you keep busy."

Daisy nodded.

"Actually, we came to talk to you about something," she said.

"What is it?" Gladys asked. "I might be old, but my brain's still sharp as a tack."

"Do you remember something happening in town back in the early 90s? I would have been around kindergarten maybe," Daisy said.

"What sort of thing?" Gladys asked, seeming to be thinking back.

"I'm not sure, but it wouldn't have been anything good," Daisy said. "Something involving the girls that were murdered?" Gladys went quiet a bit, tapping her bottom lip with her finger.

"You know… I do recall somethin'... I was still working at the high school back then," she said. "Yes… there was somethin'. Got the whole town in a hoopla, it seems. Then suddenly it was over."

"What was it?" Daisy asked, leaning forward.

"Gladys, do not tell me that you're telling tall tales again," Shelly said, returning to the room with a tray full of glasses.

"I do not tell tales," Gladys said, frowning at her. Shelly laughed as she stepped over and placed the tray down on a table and started handing out glasses.

"Course you do. Just the other day you were telling Stevie about someone stealing your roses," Shelly said.

"I know my own roses, Shelly. And a bush was missing!" Gladys said. Daisy straightened up, gripping her glass as she frowned at Shelly for derailing the conversation.

"Still, it might be useful for our investigation," Reid said.

"I don't see how Gladys could help you there," Shelly said, sitting in a chair on the other side of Gladys.

"You were saying there was something," Reid said, looking at the older woman.

"Well, yes. There was some rumors goin' around town back then," she started.

"But they were just rumors," Shelly interjected. "The sheriff looked into at the time and found there was nothing there worth investigatin'. Really it's not worth bringing up or wastin' your time on."

"But did it involve Marley, Vanessa, Becky and Toni," Daisy pushed.

"I think-"

"Mama, please. Let's not waste their time," Shelly said, hushing her. "In fact, I think it's about time you took your afternoon nap."

"I am not a child, Shelly. And what did I say about calling me mama," Gladys said.

"It is time for your medication. Now come on," Shelly said, pushing out of her chair and reaching down to help the old woman up. "Let's get to it."

"Some days I swear you're runnin' me into the grave," Gladys complained. Daisy sat silently as she watched the two women leave the room.

"She knows something," Daisy said. "Both of them."

"I'm getting the same feeling," Reid said. Daisy stood abruptly, leaving her glass on the table and started walking towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" Reid asked.

"Out of here," she muttered. Reid followed her, looking around the house. Once outside, Daisy kept walking.

"Daisy," Reid said, grabbing her arm and turning her around. "If they are hiding something that big, why wouldn't we have found it by now?" She looked up at him.

"You'd be surprised just what a town like this can hide," she said, turning on her heels. "And whatever it is, I'm going to figure it out."

* * *

**Sorry it's been a bit! Got caught in work and forgot to post!**

**Thanks for reading and following!**


	5. Dredging Up the Past

**Dredging Up the Past**

Daisy paced around the study. After her talk with Gladys, she could feel something. A niggle in her mind. It was just on the edges of it. And she knew she needed to get away from the others in order to focus. There were too many people and too many voices at the police station.

Soft music played in the background as she walked over to the desk and picked up a glass of wine. She had been pacing off and on for the last couple of hours. Going back and forth between staring out the windows and jotting down things in her notebook, then looking at the board. She could hear the agents just across the foyer, talking on speakerphone with their tech back in Washington. Reid had filled them in on their chat with Mrs. Martens and they put her to work scouring various records on the town.

But Daisy knew she wouldn't find anything. If Shelly Martens had shut down her mother-in-law from talking, there was a very good chance it wouldn't be in newspaper records or police records. The outsiders seemed to underestimate just how much power some of the families in town had.

There was obviously something hidden in the town and she needed to figure out who to ask. Preferably, she'd like to talk to Gladys again, but she knew after the old woman had nearly spilled the beans that afternoon, Shelly and the rest of the family would be circling the wagons and it would be hard to get the old woman alone again. But she felt that the answer lay somewhere in her head or the study.

She walked over to a bookshelf lined with yearbooks and photo albums. Sighing, she pulled off a few yearbooks and a large photo album, suddenly grateful that her mother had picked up scrapbooking and kept meticulous records of her history growing up. Walking back to the desk, she sat them down and started flipping through the first yearbook. It was from kindergarten.

She stopped on a page showing Mrs. Anderson's class. She looked down through the pictures, stopping on each one of the murdered women, frowning slightly. She had forgotten they were all in the same class.

There was a knock at the door, causing Daisy to look up. She walked over to the door, opening it and finding Spencer standing there with a smile and a plate of food.

"Found this in the fridge and thought you might be hungry. You've been locked up here since we got back," he said. Daisy stepped back and motioned him in, shutting the door behind him.

Reid walked over and sat the plate down on the desk, taking note of the half-empty wine glass and bottle of wine next to the open yearbook and the photo albums.

"You were in the same kindergarten class," he said, looking back at her. Daisy nodded as she walked over.

"Again, not unusual. It's a small town and there were only two or three to begin with," she said with a sigh. "But I just keep thinking that the connection… it's right in front of me." She then walked over to a cabinet and grabbed another glass, walking back to the desk and reaching for the bottle.

"Um… well, I don't typically like to drink when we're on a case," he said.

"A glass of wine won't kill you," she said, smiling slightly. "Besides, I find it helps me think."

"Then I guess one won't hurt," he said, looking back down at the book. "You come up with any other connections?"

"Not really," she said with a sigh. "I was just starting to go through old photo albums. Figured Mom might have left me some clue. She was practically religious in putting them together."

"Speaking of religious, seems everyone in town belongs to one church or another. Except you," Reid said. Daisy smiled slightly as she looked over at him.

"You caught that? Yea, just another of my parents' weird quirks. Never stepped in a church a day in my life," she said. "Though they got married in a church. Think that might have been the last time… but Grams… she was a member of First Baptist. Went every Sunday morning and night."

"Any reason they didn't go?" he asked. Daisy shrugged.

"If there was, they never told me," she said with a sigh, reaching out to open the thick album. "Just figured it was another of their things."

"What was that earlier about your parents?" Reid asked. "Seems like they certainly left a mark on the town." Daisy chuckled softly.

"Got that right," she said. "Grams and Gladys were friends going all the way back to when they were little girls. They had hoped that someday the two families would be united in marriage, but that dream died when they both had sons."

"Shelly Martens didn't seem too happy with you," Reid commented.

"Well, that goes back to my parents. She never liked my mother. Thought she was beneath her and unworthy to marry into the founding five. Regardless of how people felt, there is still a hierarchy in this town," Daisy said with a roll of her eyes. "And then I turned down her son Stevie in school. Even if she didn't like us, she still wanted her precious son to marry into the Whites and I was the only option. Probably wanted to get her grubby little hands on the family money."

"Why did you turn him down?" Reid asked. Daisy raised her eyebrows as she looked over at him.

"He was boring," she said simply. "Plus, like I said, I was eager to get out of town. Didn't want anyone holding me back." She returned to slowly flipping through the album. "Anyway, outside of Gladys, no one else in the founding five seemed to like us, though they tolerated us for appearances sakes. Same with their social ladder-climbing friends. Though Mom and Dad still managed to have some friends..."

"Hence why you made friends with the outcasts," Reid commented.

"Yep," Daisy said. "We understood each other. Protected each other when necessary. But thankfully the bullying stopped around junior high." Reid looked over at her, surprised.

"I would have thought being a White gave you a certain amount of protection," he said.

"Not in this town," she said. "Sure, people were nice to my face, but there are other ways people can show their dislike. Spreading rumors about me seemed to be a popular pastime. Especially with Toni and Vanessa's group."

"And here I thought small towns were supposed to be friendly," Reid said.

"They were also supposed to be safe," Daisy said, still flipping through the photo book. Reid stopped her, staring down at the photos.

"Your mother was really beautiful," he said. A soft smile came across Daisy's face.

"I used to love sitting and watching her get ready. She always had an impeccable sense of style," she replied. "And wouldn't be caught dead outside the house without her hair and makeup done. Grams was the same. She would get onto me all the time for my lack of enthusiasm for makeup and dresses. Think the only time I let her force me into a dress was for prom."

"Seems you were close," Reid commented.

"We were. Always have been. After Mom and Dad died, Grams was all I had left," she said. "And after Grams died, well, I had no reason to come back."

"But you kept this place," Reid said, looking around the study.

"Only because Grams made it very clear that it was to stay in the White family," Daisy said with a laugh. "But also, I couldn't bring myself to part with it. It's the last piece of my family I have left."

Daisy started flipping through the album again, then suddenly came to a stop. She stared down at the page, her eyes widening as she felt her heartbeat falter.

"What the…"

"What is it?" Reid asked, looking down at the pages. "I thought you said you didn't go to church."

"We didn't," Daisy said. "I don't remember this…" She bent down and looked at the photo of a small group of five little girls standing in front of a church alter. Her heart nearly stopped when she immediately recognized it as the one from her dreams. She reached out and touched the photo, then ran her finger down to her mother's neat script underneath it.

"Is that-"

"Yea… Vanessa Carmichael, Toni Abbott, me, Becky Rogers and Marley Reed," she said softly.

"What's Lighthouse Kids?" Reid asked.

"Must be one of those Bible scriptures kids' clubs," Daisy said. "Says I was 5 in this photo… why don't I remember this?" Reid looked over at her, noting her face had gone white.

"What's going on Daisy?" he asked. She glanced at him and then back down at the photo.

"I… I think I, well… I thought it was just a dream. Ever since I came back, I've been dreaming about this church. I thought it was just… a nightmare. But maybe it was a memory," she murmured, sitting her wine glass down.

"Daisy… that's the all the women who were murdered," he said.

"I know," she replied.

"And you," he said.

"I know. Just shut up for a minute. I'm trying to think," she said quickly. "I'm trying to remember the significance of this photo…" Reid reached down and pulled the photo out of the book, then turning towards the door. "Where are you going?"

"We need to show this to the team," he said, not stopping. Daisy followed him, a frown firmly on her face. "Guys, I think we found the connection." He threw the photo down on the table. "It's all of the victims and Daisy."

The rest quickly gathered around, looking at the photo.

"What is this?" Emily asked, looking up at Daisy, who was now chewing on her thumbnail. She shook her head slightly.

"I don't know. I don't even remember this," she said. "We were only five in this photo."

"What church is this?" JJ asked. Daisy shrugged.

"I don't know," she said again. "I don't even remember my parents going to church."

"Is there any significance to this photo that you can think of?" Emily asked.

"I'm trying to think," Daisy said. "But I don't remember anything. Nothing."

"Someone get the sheriff on the phone," Emily said. "In the meantime, we should scan this and send it to Garcia."

The dining room was immediately a flurry of activity as Daisy stayed to the back, frowning as she wracked her memory for anything. She closed her eyes, going back to the dream. The congregation singing. The wood panel door. The fear.

Something happened there, she could feel it. She just didn't know what.

"Daisy. Daisy," someone was saying. Daisy's eyes flew open as she looked at Emily, who was watching her with concern on her face. "If it's alright, I'd like to do a cognitive interview. See if we can loosen up some of those memories." Daisy nodded.

"I'm not sure if it'll do any good, but we can try," she said. Emily turned and made her way to the den, Daisy following. She could hear someone talking to Garcia on speakerphone again and footsteps behind her.

"Have a seat," Emily said, motioning to the large leather sofa. Daisy sat at one end and pulled a cushion into her lap, crossing her legs under her.

"How do we do this?" she asked, looking at Emily as Reid stood nearby watching.

"I just need you to close your eyes and take a deep breath," Emily said, sitting next to her on the sofa. Daisy nodded and closed her eyes, taking deep, regulated breaths. "Okay… I need you to go back… think about the church. You said you dreamed about it? What do you see in the dream?"

"It's always the same thing," Daisy said. "I'm walking down the aisle of the church to the front. Everyone is singing 'How Great Thou Art,'" she said softly, a frown appearing. "Grams used to sing it all the time, but she stopped…"

"When?" Emily asked.

"When I was in first grade," Daisy replied. "Then there's a door. Wood panel. It's in the church. I'm always walking towards it, but I never go in. But I… I'm afraid."

Emily went silent a few moments, casting a worried looked Reid's way. They had seen this before. There were very few reasons why someone would block memories from childhood. Daisy swallowed, opening her eyes.

"I know what you're thinking," she said. "Something happened to me in that church… that's why my parents stopped going." She pushed off the sofa and ran from the room.

"Daisy," Reid said, starting to follow her.

"Stop, Spencer," Emily said softly. Before either of them could say anything, Daisy had returned with the photo album.

"Maybe there's something else here," she said, sitting back down with the album.

"You don't have to do this, Daisy," Emily said. "Not right now."

"It's fine. If this has something to do with why my old classmates are being killed, then I want to find out," she said, not looking up. She looked over the page and then flipped it to the next. She studied it closely and then pointed. "There was another photo here." She looked up. "See this… a photo was ripped off and another put over it."

She looked back down at the page, frowning.

"Mom… what did you not want me to see," she murmured. She noticed other photos with the five of them. Birthday parties. Play dates. Halloween. Why didn't she remember being friends with Vanessa and Toni? The two had made junior high and high school a living hell for her. When did it all change?

"All these photos… I don't remember any of this," Daisy said. "I don't remember us being close at all. Only Marley, Becky and I hung out…" The door chimed and all three looked up.

"That must be the sheriff," Emily said, standing. Daisy put the album aside and started to follow her.

"Hey, are you okay?" Reid asked softly, grabbing her arm. Daisy looked up at him.

"I'm fine. I just want to figure this out," she said, starting to move again.

"Daisy…"

"Look, I'm fine. I've seen worse than this," she said.

"But this is… something may have happened to you," he replied.

"Then I'll get over it," she said, pulling out of his grasp and making her way to the dining room. Sheriff Walker was there with his deputy, Ryan Lake. He had been another old classmate of Daisy's.

"Sheriff," Emily said with a nod.

"What's going on?" he asked. "You find something?"

"We think we have," Emily said, walking over to the table and picking up the photo. "We think we found the connection." She held the photo out to him. Walker frowned as he looked down at the photo, Ryan looking over his shoulder. "That's all of the women who were murdered… And Daisy." Walker looked up, finding Daisy.

"I told you that you might not be safe," he said.

"That looks like Southern Baptist," Ryan said, still studying the photo.

"Southern Baptist?" Daisy said. "The church behind the high school?"

"Yea. My aunt goes there," Ryan said. "I didn't know you all went there."

"Neither did I," Daisy said softly. Emily looked back at her and then back at the sheriff and deputy.

"We think something happened there… about 28 years ago. That's when this photo was taken," she said. Walker looked at Daisy expectantly.

"I don't remember anything," she admitted. "I didn't even remember this photo being taken." Walker frowned and looked back down at it.

"I don't recall anything. But that would have been before my time," he said.

"I need to speak with Mrs. Martens again," Daisy said. "She almost said something today when Spencer and I were there, but Shelly cut us off."

"I don't think you should be interviewing her," Emily said.

"No. I have to be the one," Daisy nearly shouted. "This involves me. She'll tell me. And I have a right to know."

The room was silent as they looked at her.

"Are you sure you can handle this?" JJ asked softly. "Whatever she has to say… are you sure?" Daisy nodded.

"I have to find out," she said.

"I want a protective guard on you at all times," Walker said. "This photo is proof that this sicko is going to come after you next and I don't want you alone at any time."

"Fine," Daisy said. "But I get to interview Mrs. Martens."

"I'll call and get her in to the station first thing tomorrow," Walker said. Daisy nodded.

"If it's alright, I'll be upstairs," she said, leaving the dining room. Walker looked down at the photo.

"The caption said it was some group called Lighthouse Kids," Reid said. "Is there anything you can tell us about it?"

"It's a church kids' group," Ryan said. "Go once a week and memorize Bible verses. Had it at my church."

"Do you know who was in charge of the group 28 years ago?" Emily asked. Ryan shrugged.

"Couldn't tell you. I only went every so often," he replied. "We were members of First Baptist. But they would have had some sort youth minister that would have been in charge of it."

"You catch that, Garcia?" Luke asked.

"Got it!" a disembodied voice chirped brightly. "Already on it. Let's see… in 1990, the pastor of the church was a Richard Kingfisher. He retired shortly after that…"

"Moved to Pawnee to be closer to his mother," Ryan offered.

"And the youth pastor was a Mitch Fischer," Garcia said. "Married. He also moved out of town the same year." They looked at Walker and Ryan, who was frowning.

"I don't remember him, but Fischer… sounds like he's part of the founding five," he said.

"Garcia," Luke said.

"Already on it. Mitch Fischer, the son of Margaret and Tony Fischer," she started. "Seems they are part of these so-called Founding Five. His family has been here for generations."

"Anything on why they moved?" Luke asked.

"Nope, but I have a current address for Oklahoma City," she replied.

"Send us that address. We need to get up there to interview him tomorrow," Emily said. "Luke, you, Tara and Matt go to OKC to talk to Fischer. The rest of us will stay here and speak with Mrs. Martens."

"Got it."

* * *

"Daisy?" Spencer said from the open door. He looked across the dark room and could see the verandah. A head popped up over a large wicker chair.

"Come in," she called out. Spencer made his way across the large room, noting that there were clothes piled up around and the bed unmade. There were a couple of open suitcases. He stepped out on the verandah and sat in the open chair looking over at Daisy, who was staring out into the distance. She had retrieved the wine from the study and was clutching the glass in her hands with her legs propped up on a wicker ottoman.

"So… what's the consensus?" she asked.

"They are going to let you interview Mrs. Martens. I'll sit in on it while the others watch," he said softly. Daisy nodded slowly.

"I was probably molested or something, wasn't I?" she asked softly, still not meeting his eyes.

"We don't know that, Daisy," Spencer said quickly. She laughed softly.

"Please, there are very few reasons someone blocks memories. And they all involve some sort of trauma," she replied. "I know this. As do you." She took a long sip from the glass. "Though I suppose it makes sense. Why my mom wanted me to get out of town as soon as I could. Why she hated this town. Why I hated this town. Why I never felt like I belonged."

"It doesn't mean anything," Reid said again. Daisy finally looked over at him.

"Why I empathize with victims," she continued. "Even if I can't remember it… I always felt… some sort of connection with them… their families. I thought it was because I understood loss. Maybe this was it."

"Are you sure you want to know the truth?" Spencer asked.

"I need to know the truth," she said. "Wanting not to know is a luxury I don't have." Reid nodded and sat back in the chair, looking out at the peaceful countryside. Even at night, he could clearly see the rolling hills and pastures in the moonlight.

"This place really is beautiful," he said.

"Part of me always loved it," Daisy admitted. "I would come sit here with Grams all the time. It was her favorite place in the whole house. Guess it's mine too. We used to watch the storms roll in from here."

"Whatever we find out tomorrow, Daisy… it's important to hold on to memories like that," he said, looking over at her.

"Was psychology one of those fancy degrees of yours?" she asked.

"No, but you pick up some things on the job," he said. Daisy nodded. "And if it helps, I'll be in there with you tomorrow." Daisy looked over at him, frowning slightly.

"I'll be fine," she said.

"If I can speak frankly, you'll need a friend," he replied.

"And you figure you fall into that category?" Daisy replied.

"I think you don't have many friends and I'm offering to be one if you need it," he said. Daisy studied him before looking away.

"What makes you think that?" she asked. "I could have tons of friends back in New York."

"Friends that haven't called," Reid said. Daisy bristled slightly. "You've only texted a few times and gotten one phone call not related to the case since we got here. From your publisher."

"I'm not a very friendly person," she said.

"No, you just don't open up that much to others," Spencer said.

"Maybe I like it that way," Daisy said.

"Regardless, the offer still stands," Spencer said. Daisy looked down at her glass and then up at him.

"Suppose having new friends never hurt anyone," she said softly. Spencer smiled.

"It's not a bad thing."

* * *

**Reaching the climax of this one. It's not long and things happen quickly and all. **

**Lolyncut – If there is anything I know, it's small towns. ^_^**

**Thanks for reading and following!**


	6. To Find the Truth

**To Find the Truth**

Daisy watched as Mrs. Martens was ushered into the police station from Walker's office, Reid standing at her side. Her daughter-in-law was at her side and Shelly did not look happy as she glanced around the room, her disgust evident.

"Let's do this," Daisy said, starting to walk out of the office. Reid grabbed her arm, holding her back for a moment.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked. She looked away and nodded.

"As ready as I can be," she said, starting out of the door.

"What's going on, sheriff?" Shelly said, stiffening as Daisy and Reid walked out of Walker's office. "Why are we here? We've already told you everything we know. We don't have anything to do with what happened to those girls."

"Hush, Shelly. If you had let me say my piece yesterday, we wouldn't have been dragged in here today," Gladys said. She looked at the sheriff. "I'm sorry I didn't think to say anything about this earlier. Didn't even think of it until Daisy asked. But I want to do my part to help now."

She then turned and walked into the conference room.

"Shelly, you can wait outside," Gladys said without looking back, stopping Shelly in her tracks. Her eyes widened as she looked at Daisy and started to glare.

"I hope you're happy, nosin' around in things that ought to just die," she hissed before looking at the sheriff. "I'll be waitin' at the coffee shop." She then turned on her heels and strode out of the station.

"She seems delightful," Emily said dryly.

"You're seeing her on a good day," Daisy muttered before walking into the conference room, the sheriff and Reid following her.

"Can I get you somethin' Mrs. Martens?" the sheriff asked.

"Just a bit of water would be fine," Gladys said, settling into a chair. Daisy walked around and sat next to her, pulling out her phone and placing it on the table in front of her. She maneuvered through it, turning on the voice memo app to record the interview.

The sheriff left, shutting the door behind him.

"What did you want to tell me yesterday?" Daisy asked, getting straight to the point. Gladys sighed.

"Well, I recall some rumors going around back then about the youth minister gettin' inappropriate with some of the girls at Southern Baptist," she said. Daisy was silent, her jaw clenched. Reid watched her nervously. "Now, I can't remember if there was any real investigation, but I do remember that folks started sayin' that it was just the girls gettin' over-imaginative."

"Who was it?" Daisy asked, willing her voice to stay even.

"I never did hear who exactly it was," Mrs. Martens said, seeming to hesitate despite her earlier declaration to help.

"Did my family go to Southern Baptist back then?" Daisy asked. Mrs. Martens seemed to be fighting with herself. "Just tell me the truth. Was it me?"

"Daisy… your grams, she made me swear that I'd never tell you… You wouldn't talk about it after all the hoopla, though you were always a bit on the quiet side," she said. "Once they figured out you had, oh what did they call it? I'm not one for big fancy medical words, but you had somehow blocked the memory and they decided it was better for you if you never remembered."

"Was it me?" Daisy repeated.

"You were in that group, yes," Mrs. Martens said. "But they never could prove nothing, so they sent that young man out of town and pretended like nothin' ever happened."

"So that's why my parents quit going to church," Daisy stated.

"I'm so sorry, darlin'," Mrs. Martens said softly, reaching out to take Daisy's hand.

"Why? It's not your fault," Daisy said.

"I'm just shocked that you can't remember none of that," Mrs. Martens said. Daisy shrugged, keeping a neutral look on her face as she pulled her hand back, though her mind was a perfect storm. She rarely let her emotions show and she wasn't about to do it here in this interview room with Mrs. Martens and FBI agents watching on.

"Suppose it's for the best," she said, keeping her eyes trained on the notebook in front of her as she jotted things down. "The other girls, I take it, were Vanessa, Toni, Marley and Becky." She glanced up at the older woman. She nodded solemnly.

"They all started making a fuss about it, but like I said, the sheriff couldn't find any evidence of anything. You were the only one who refused to talk about it… the other girls, their parents raised all sorts of hell at the time," she said. "But when it came out that Vanessa and Toni had made it all up, well… about tore the town in two. Their families were embarrassed about it, so wanted to just brush it under the rug. Others never really believed it was all lies. That pastor, I don't think he ever worked in the church again…"

"So, there's a chance that we made all of it up?" Daisy asked next. Emily and Reid glanced at each other, both seeming to think it was time for them to step in. The reporter's calm mask was starting to slip a bit.

"Well, I suppose," Gladys said. "After everything was said and done, none of ya'll would talk about it and Vanessa and Toni's parents threatened just about anyone who brought it up. Your mama, though, she was hellbent on making sure that man paid… wouldn't let it rest for a long time…"

Daisy nodded and took a deep breath. She glanced at Emily and Reid.

"If you guys could take it from here, I think I need some air," she said, standing. Before either could answer, she left the room.

"That poor girl," Gladys said. She looked at the two agents. "I never once thought she was lyin' about it… Her grams and parents neither."

"Do you know who she spoke with back then?" Emily asked.

"Her parents and grams, of course," Gladys said. "Tried to get her to talk to the sheriff, but she just clammed up. Think they took her to some fancy therapist in the City as well. At least that's what Delores - her grandmother - told me. But she wouldn't even talk about it with her. They're all gone now, so not sure who you could talk to about that." Emily nodded as she took down some notes. She glanced at Reid out of the corner of her eye, seeing him glance towards the door a few times.

"Well, Mrs. Martens, I think that's about all the questions we have for you now. But would it be alright if we stopped by should we have more?" she asked.

"Of course," Mrs. Martens said immediately. "Anything to help find the bastard that's been killin' those girls. And to help Daisy."

"Thank you."

* * *

Daisy stepped outside of the police station and bent over, feeling her head starting to whirl. She felt a bit dizzy. She wasn't sure what happened back then - the memories were still locked away if they even existed. But just hearing that she was caught up in some town scandal was overwhelming in and of itself, considering she had spent a fair amount of her time since then trying not to draw attention to herself. Even though it never stopped Vanessa and Toni.

But at the same time, things were starting to make sense. Why a number of people only tolerated her family. Why she was often left out in elementary school and even continuing up to junior and high school. Why only Marley and Becky ever stayed at her side, their families allowing them to continue hanging out with her. Looking back, their families were also the only ones that were frequent visitors to the ranch house. While everyone showed up to whatever shindig her grandmother threw - Delores White still held a fair amount of power in the town up until her death - her parents were never particularly liked.

In an instant, her perspective of everything had changed as she went through her life, looking at it from a different view. She always wondered why everyone seemed to hate her and her parents for no reason. At least now she understood why.

"Daisy."

She straightened up and turned, seeing Spencer stepping out. Just behind him, she could see the sheriff watching through the glass doors with a worried look on his face.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked.

"Yea, just needed some air," she said, quickly falling back into work mode. This was just any other story, she told herself. Didn't matter if she was in the middle of it - she was anything if not professional and could wait until she was home alone to deal with her personal thoughts and feelings on the matter. At least then she would have the comfort of a bottle of wine as she dissected everything she had heard.

She almost laughed at herself. She was more of a White than she thought she was. Her grandparents were always preaching that you didn't let anyone know what you were truly feeling. Not in this town. They would find a way to use it against you.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his brow furrowed. "We have it under control if you want to head home." Daisy quickly shook her head.

"No," she said immediately. "I can handle this."

"Alright. Well, we're finished up with Mrs. Martens, but… she mentioned that your parents took you to see a therapist as a child. Any way you might remember a name or have those records somewhere?" he asked softly. Daisy looked away, trying to remember. She had remembered being at a doctor's office in the City when she was a bit older. Perhaps that was it.

"I don't remember the name, but… Mom and Dad kept a lot of my personal records, medical stuff and whatnot. It might be in a box at the manor," she said, looking back at him. He nodded.

"I can go back with you and we can look through them. See if we can find anything," he said. She nodded and started back into the station when Reid's phone went off. Daisy stopped and turned to look at him as he answered.

"Yea?" he said. He nodded and then his eyes widened. "Really?... Okay… Right… We'll be here." He then hung up and looked at the ground a few moments before looking back up at Daisy. "That was the others… they're coming back with the youth pastor." Daisy frowned.

"Why?" she asked.

"Daisy… he just confessed… to everything…"

* * *

Daisy looked through the glass at the station, trying to remember the man sitting at the table staring at his hands. She couldn't. It was as if an entire year of her life was just gone. She wondered why she had never noticed.

He didn't look like a killer or a child molester. Of course, they rarely ever did. There was no uniform or look. He was frail and appeared much older than he actually was. And he seemed genuinely remorseful which she hadn't been expecting.

"He confessed? To killing all of them? Just like that?" she asked, not taking her eyes away from him.

"That's what they said. Decided to bring him here for more questioning. They have investigators going through his house now," Spencer said.

"He confessed to… what happened back then as well?" she asked, blinking furiously.

"Yes," Spencer said softly.

"Can I… can someone tell me what he said?" she asked.

"I don't-"

"I want to hear it," Daisy said abruptly, her voice firm. "I need to hear it." Spencer sighed.

"Hold on," he said. He stepped away, walking over to Luke, Tara, Matt and Emily. "She wants to hear what he said." The group looked over at Daisy, who was still staring through the window. "And she doesn't seem like she'll take no for an answer." Emily sighed and looked at Tara.

"Think it's better if you tell her," she said. Tara nodded and walked over to Daisy.

"Hey," she said softly. Daisy looked over at her. "I think we can use the sheriff's office." Daisy nodded, not saying a word as they walked past the others. After she shut the door behind them, she leaned against it, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Don't you want to sit?" Tara asked.

"I feel better standing," Daisy replied. Tara nodded and sat on the edge of the desk.

"Well… it didn't take much. In fact, he didn't seem surprised when we showed up. Like he was expecting us," she started. "We sat down with him and before we started asking questions… he told us about what happened 28 years ago." Daisy remained silent, her jaw clenched. "He confessed to touching you. Kissing you. Apparently, you told your friends because you were too afraid to tell your parents. So, they told their parents. He said that he confessed back then, but without any evidence and when it came out that the others were lying, well… the sheriff at the time told him that he couldn't arrest him, but to get the hell out of town." Daisy looked at the ground.

"And the murders?" she asked softly.

"He said it was revenge for ruining his life," Tara said. Daisy remained silent, taking in the information and trying to reconcile it with the man she had seen through the glass. He had seemed upset. Regretful. That didn't settle right with her. But she also knew she had been compromised. At that moment she knew she couldn't trust her instincts.

"I think I'm going home," she said suddenly. She looked up at Tara. "I… just… I need to go home." Tara pushed up off the desk.

"I understand. We all do. We'll be there later," she said. Daisy nodded and pushed off the door, turning to open it. "Daisy… if you need someone to talk to… we're all here for you." Daisy paused for a moment, staring at the doorknob. Her upbringing dictated that she say something in return. But she was confused. So instead of saying anything, she opened the door and walked out.

She kept her gaze forward but could see the agents grouped together out of the corner of her eye.

"Daisy, I-"

"Save it, Randy. I'll be at home if anyone needs me," she said brusquely, not even looking at the sheriff. She didn't wait to see if he responded. Just kept walking. She didn't allow herself to think about anything as she got in her car and started driving. It wasn't until she was in the house that she noticed her cheeks were wet with tears.

* * *

"Something doesn't feel right," Spencer said to Rossi after they had watched Daisy leave.

"I know," he replied. "He gave in too easily."

"Which means he's covering for someone," Spencer said, glancing towards the room where they had the pastor waiting.

"That's why we brought him here. Thought the ride over might get him time to think things over," Rossi said. He glanced towards the door of the station. "I'm worried about her. She probably shouldn't be alone right now. It's a lot to take in."

"She's been on her own a long time. She's probably not used to having people around," Spencer said. He looked over towards the interview room. "Mind if I speak with him?"

"Be my guest," Rossi said. "See if you can get anything out of him." Spencer nodded and walked over, stopping to look through the glass before opening the door and stepping in. "Rev. Fischer?"

"Please, it's just Mitch," the man said. "I haven't been a pastor in over two decades and even then, I was just a youth minister." He sat back in his chair and met Spencer's gaze. "I already told everything to the other agents."

"I know," Spencer said, sitting across from him. "I'm Dr. Spencer Reid… and I just wanted to go over a few things. You said that you molested Daisy White, but none of the other girls." Mitch stared at him a few moments before nodding, clenching his jaw. "But you haven't since then…"

"I relied on the Lord to give me strength," he said.

"Must have been difficult, fighting those urges," Spencer said.

"I can do all things through the Lord," Mitch said immediately. "And, well, it's not like I was welcomed to work with children again. I ended up going into prison ministry. Remove the temptation and it's not so difficult." Spencer continued to study him a bit longer.

"You're part of the founding five families of Whitehall. You still have family around here?" he asked. Mitch seemed confused by the question.

"Some. But as you can guess after what happened, they didn't keep in touch with me," he said. "I was basically disowned."

"No one kept in touch with you?" he asked. Mitch shook his head.

"None," he replied.

"What other family do you have?" Spencer asked.

"My parents are long dead. But I've got a brother and a sister. Don't really know about them now," the minister said, starting to get defensive. "I'm not sure what this has to do with anything. I killed those girls. Why aren't you putting me in jail?"

"We'll put you there… once we sort through some things," Spencer said, standing and walking out of the room.

"What is it, Spence?" JJ asked, walking up to him.

"I feel like we need to look into him more," he said. "He said he's got a brother and a sister."

"We've already got Garcia doing a deep dive into him," she said, frowning. "Why?"

"He's covering for someone," Spencer said.

"We thought as much as well. He didn't know details of the murders. We brought him here hoping we could get him to change his story," JJ replied. At that moment, Emily rushed up, her phone to her ear.

"Hold on," she said. She pulled it back and put it on speakerphone.

"Okay, so I did some digging and it turns out there was a nephew… he was 14 at the time. He and his mother left the town around the same time as Mitch and his wife," Garcia said quickly.

"What was his name?" Spencer asked.

"Randy Fischer," Garcia said. "But I can't find anything on anyone under that name… I think he changed it." Spencer met Emily's eyes as something clicked. He looked around the room, noticing that the sheriff was missing. He recalled how the man was oddly protective of Daisy, even though she said she barely knew him. He was about the right age and moved back into town a bit over a decade ago.

"Try Walker," he said.

"Okay… why?"

"Just… I have a feeling," Spencer said, turning and starting out of the door.

"Spence, where are you going?" JJ called out.

"To White Manor!"

* * *

**Sorry! Been distracted with working on another story and forgot to post this one. I feel like I kind of rushed the last few chapters, but I was kind of stuck on how to drag it out more, so just stayed with it. The whole story is only about 9 chapters total. And this one is mostly an experiment as it is, just to see if I could potentially write something that's more of a thriller. **

**Spygoose – Of course! I have the entire story completed, I just keep forgetting to post the new chapters. And thanks!**

**Thanks everyone for reading and following!**


	7. Wrong Turn

**Wrong Turn**

Daisy slammed the door behind her as she walked straight to the kitchen and over to the wine rack, grabbing a bottle without really looking as she dropped her purse on a counter. She then turned and strode towards the library. She slammed the bottle down on the desk and quickly looked around, trying to find the bottle opener that she left in there.

Finding it, she picked it up and tried to open the bottle, but her hands were shaking too much. Shouting in frustration, she threw the opener on the floor and began pacing around the room.

It was over. But it didn't feel like it was over. She kept glancing over at the board, going over everything in her mind. It was too easy. He had given up too easily. Surely the person who had put so much thought and effort into these murders – doing them without leaving a trace – wouldn't confess so quickly and without any sort of pressure. She would need more time to figure it out, but she felt like all the parts were there. Up on that board.

She then began racking her brain.

"Why can't I remember?" she said in frustration. It would all be so much easier if she could just remember what happened back then.

She then gasped suddenly as she saw a flash of a memory. She could see the man, albeit, much younger. Bursting into a room. His face contorted in shock and horror.

She looked down at the floor, wondering what it meant. She blinked furiously as she bent down to retrieve the bottle opener. Walking back up to the desk, she attempted to open the bottle again, this time managing to still the shaking of her hands. She focused on the task, finding it helped calm her.

The room - it had to have been in the church. It looked like an office of sorts - perhaps the youth minister's office? But why was the man shocked to find her there? Was she alone? She still couldn't remember anything that had happened to her. But she couldn't help but feel like that man – the youth minister – that he couldn't have hurt her. She couldn't explain why, but she just had a hunch. Maybe she did make everything up.

She poured the wine and then took a generous sip, staring out the window at the front lawn. Night had already fallen and all was quiet. Too quiet. She quickly flipped on some music and turned to look over the board, hoping to find the answers there. Taking in the candid photos of each woman, she then compared them to the crime scene photos. There was a large amount of brutality and hatred there. Whoever did this was most certainly after revenge. There was rage in these acts. But she couldn't seem to imagine the haggard older man sitting in the interview room doing this.

Her eyes widened as something hit her. He was older and looked frail. All of the women were relatively younger and in shape. They had put up a good fight as there was evidence of defensive wounds. Unless there was a lot more than what met the eye, she didn't think it was possible for him to have done this on his own. He had to have help or…

He didn't do them at all and was covering for someone.

Daisy quickly turned back to the desk, looking for her phone. She then realized that she had left it in her purse in the kitchen. She dashed out of the library and was halfway through the den towards the kitchen when she heard the door open. Turning, her eyes widened in confusion as the sheriff walked in.

"Sheriff Walker, what are you doing here?" she asked. He looked at her and smiled shyly.

"Told you, it's just Randy. And figured you could use some company… after finding out everything that you did today," he said, walking towards her. Daisy frowned. She hated how everyone in this town felt they needed to step into her life. She had wanted to be alone with her thoughts. He'd probably be around town gloating about how he helped solve the case and comforted her tomorrow even though he hadn't done a damn thing.

Sometimes Daisy really hated local authorities. They often got in the way.

"As you can see, I'm fine," she replied. "No need for the concern."

"You're not… going through, what's it they call it? Flashbacks or something?" he asked, continuing to move closer to her. "Read about it in those information packets they send out about dealing with rape victims."

"I wasn't raped," Daisy said firmly. "At least I don't think I was. They said he just confessed to touching me." Walker frowned.

"You don't remember any of it," he said, making more of a statement than asking a question. Daisy laughed haggardly.

"No. I mean, some things are coming back a bit… I remember being in his office and… him walking in and looking shocked to find me there. But I don't remember anything else," she said. "I'm not sure that I want to, to be honest. I've got enough bad memories without those…"

Walker finally stopped, feeling entirely too close for Daisy's comfort. He looked to the ground and shook his head.

"I had hoped that maybe you'd remember," he said, finally looking up at her.

"Why would you want me to remember what that, that beast, did to me?" she shouted, taking a step back. This was making absolutely no sense to her.

"There's a lot more to this story than you know, Daisy," he said softly, gazing down at her.

"What do you know?" she asked. "You're not even from around here." He took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"I'm sorry about this," he said.

"About wh-"

Before Daisy could react, he swung out, hitting her in the head hard. The floor rushed up to meet her and she vaguely heard the sound of glass shattering next to her. Before she could move or even register what was going on, there was another painful thud against her head and everything went black.

* * *

Reid felt his heart start to pound as he saw the front door gaping open at the manor. Running into the large house, he looked over, seeing the library door open and music still playing. He looked inside, finding no one there though there was an open bottle of wine on the desk and Daisy's shoes were under it.

"Daisy!" he shouted, going back out into the foyer and looking around. He hoped perhaps she was somewhere else in the large house. Maybe in the bathroom or the kitchen. That the open door didn't mean what he thought it did. "Daisy, are you here?!"

He then came to a stop in the archway to the den, seeing the spilled wine and broken glass. Hurrying over, he bent down, seeing a small puddle of blood nearby. Pulling out his phone as he stood, he ran his fingers through his hair as he dialed and waited for Emily to pick up. This couldn't be happening again. They couldn't lose another one. He couldn't go through getting there too late yet again. They had to find Daisy.

"What is it, Spencer?" she asked.

"Daisy's not here. The door was open and there's a broken glass on the floor in the den with some blood," he said quickly. "I think he took her." He started towards the front door. "I'm on my way back in-"

"Stay there. We'll come to you. I'm on that right now," she said. He could hear her shouting orders and a flurry of movement on the other end.

"Has Garcia found anything more on the sheriff?" Spencer asked.

"We have some more information, but she's still working on it. Going to talk to Fischer again," she said hurriedly.

"Okay, well… I'll do what I can from here," Reid said, starting towards the library. "Get Garcia to track Daisy's phone. Maybe she has it on her."

"Already on it," Emily replied. "Someone should be there soon."

"Got it," Reid replied before hanging up. He stopped in the doorway to the library, looking around. He wasn't sure what Daisy had figured out, if anything. But here was as good a place to wait for the others as any.

* * *

When Daisy slowly started coming to, the first thing she registered was the painful ache in the side of her head. She then felt the restraints. She was sitting in a chair, though her head lulled forward. Her hands were tied behind her to the chair as were her legs. She couldn't really move. Keeping her eyes closed and her breathing even, she relied on her other senses, hoping to get some sort of idea of what she was facing before she opened her eyes.

"I know you're awake, Daisy."

She finally opened her eyes, blinking slightly as they adjusted to the light. She was in a barn or something - the floor was a bunch of dirt. It was darkly lit. She then ventured a look up, seeing Randy standing there watching her, his arms crossed in front of him. He had a curious look on his face.

"Where are we and why am I here?" she managed to croak as she met his eyes.

"Old farm on some of my family's old land. They sold it years ago, but I managed to get it back," he said, taking a step towards her. "Needed a place where we could talk without any interruptions."

Daisy looked around the room, stopping when she came across a large metal table with dark stains. The bitter metallic scent of blood drifted towards her as she whipped her head over to look at him.

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with," she said dully.

"Daisy, Daisy… that's not what this is about," he said gently. "You're not like the others. They deserved what they got. I don't intend to do that to you."

"Well, since you want to talk, mind filling me in on why you killed them?" she asked. "What does all of this mean to you? You're not even from here."

"You still don't remember," he murmured.

"I told you that!" she shouted. "I was five years old!"

"You always were precocious. Seemed far older than you actually were. While all the other girls were running off and playing princess, you… you were reading. Or watching everything around you. Made some pretty interesting observations about people. Even then, you seemed to think that this town and its hierarchy was ridiculous," he said. Daisy frowned. How did he know? He didn't move into town until she was in high school. Even then, she had barely spoken to him. He was a good 8 or 9 years older than her and she had been focused on graduating and getting the hell out.

"And then in high school, you were so focused on writing and news. Searching for truth. I thought maybe it was because of what happened, but then… you didn't even recognize me," he said. "Though I suppose that was a good thing. If you did, then there was no way that grandmother of yours would have let me anywhere near you…"

"None of this makes sense," Daisy spat, glaring at him. "You moved here when I was in high school. How could you have known me as a child?

"I did know you because I was born and raised here," he said. "What's more, I'm cut from the same cloth. Though no one really respected the Fischers. Not after what happened. My momma got remarried after that, and the first thing she did was have my step-daddy adopt me so she could change my last name," he said, his eyes starting to light up with anger. "Fischers weren't worth dirt. But I thought… I thought maybe we'd bond over that… seeing all the things people said about the Whites…"

"I don't give a shit what people say about us. None of us did," Daisy replied.

"I know. But they still respected you lot," he said. "I thought… well didn't matter what I thought, because first chance you got, you hightailed it out of here… I had to find a way to bring you back."

"Get to the fucking point," Daisy retorted, growing tired of his psychotic babbling. He stopped his slow pacing and stepped up to her, bending over so they were eye to eye.

"You've gotten so beautiful, Daisy. I knew you would. You take after your momma, after all. Got that spark too, though suppose it's from both sides," he said, reaching out to caress her cheek. Daisy flinched, jerking her head away from his hand. "No one knew the real story, save me and my uncle. And I had hoped you."

"Then what is the real story?" Daisy asked, trying to keep her voice even. She was tired of being jerked around, but at the same time, there was something unsettling in his eyes. She had always gotten a creepy vibe from Walker. But up until now, she didn't understand why.

"My uncle - Mitch Fischer - he was no pedophile. He didn't touch you," he said, straightening up.

"Then why did he confess?" Daisy asked. "Why do I remember being in a room with him?"

"He didn't touch you!" Walker shouted, an unhinged look coming into his eyes. "No one hurt you! It wasn't like that!" He took a step closer to her.

"Then why does everyone think he did?" she retorted.

"It was because of those damn girls! You weren't supposed to say anything to anyone and the first chance you got, you ran off and told them!" he shouted. "It was supposed to be our secret!" Daisy stared at him a moment before a small trickle of memories started flowing into her mind.

An older boy, about 13 or 14. Following her around. Always trying to talk to her.

_You're mighty pretty, Daisy…_

_Wanna see a hiding spot?_

_You can't tell no one…_

She remembered not understanding what was happening. She remembered crying.

"He only caught us the once but made me promise I wouldn't do it again and I'd stay away from you. That he'd take care of it," Walker continued. Daisy blinked as she looked up at him, a lone tear trekking down her cheek.

"It was you," she said softly.

"Finally, you're starting to remember," he said, smiling.

"You hurt me."

"No. No, Daisy. I didn't hurt you. I loved you. I still do," he explained. Daisy shook her head.

"That's not love. I was a child! A FUCKING CHILD!" she shouted.

"Shh! Shh! No need to get so worked up," he crooned, stepping up to wipe the tears away.

"Don't touch me!" Daisy shouted, trying to jerk away from him, feeling disgusted by his touch. "You hurt me and your uncle covered it up! YOU SHOULD BE IN JAIL!"

Walker stepped away from her, appearing as though he had been slapped in the face.

"You're… you've turned out just like them…" he murmured.

"Like what? A normal person who knows that touching a five-year-old girl like that is wrong?! You are seriously twisted if you think that is in any way okay!" Daisy shouted back. "What's more… YOU FUCKING KILLED MY FRIENDS!"

While part of her knew she shouldn't bait him, she couldn't help as a deep-seeded anger coursed through her. This was the man who had killed her old friends. Friends who had tried to help her back then, even though making up stories probably wasn't the best way to go about it. More memories started slowly coming back to her. They were muddled, but she remembered being afraid that no one would believe her.

_Don't worry, Daisy. We can say that he touched us too… they'll believe us then…_

"You killed them because they were trying to help me," she said.

"I killed them because they deserved to pay for what they did!" Walker shouted. "Their lies ruined my uncle's life! But more than that, I did it for you! It was the only way I could get you to come back!"

Daisy was stunned into silence. This was all about her. He had brutally murdered four women she went to school with, who, despite their stormy relationships, were innocent. They hadn't done anything to deserve this.

"There are other ways you could have gotten me back home. None of them deserved to be murdered!" she shouted, feeling the guilt start to well up in her. This was all her fault.

"Why are you defending them! They turned their backs on you! You heard the shit Vanessa and Toni said about you!"

"I don't care! And what's more, Marley and Becky were my friends! They were good people!" Daisy shouted. "None of them deserved that! The person who deserves anything horrible is you!"

Walker stared at her a few moments before growling in rage.

"I just wanted us to be together!" he said, stomping over to the table and picking up a hunting knife. "I wanted you to understand!"

"How could I ever love a monster?" Daisy replied, finding herself suddenly calm as she stared at him. He was going to kill her. But for some reason, she suddenly didn't feel any fear. Part of her felt like she deserved what was coming. It was her fault he had killed the others, after all. Walker growled again and started for her. Daisy closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

It was then that she heard the gunshot. She jumped and opened her eyes, seeing Walker stop, a look of shock on his face as he dropped the knife and then fell to his knees.

"Daisy! Are you okay!"

She wasn't sure who said it or where the voices were coming from. All she could do was stare at Walker as he fell onto his back, turning his head to look at her, reaching out to her.

"I love you…"

"Daisy? Daisy!"

* * *

**Finally, we discover what actually happened 28 years ago. And we only have two more chapters after this.**

**Thanks for following and reading!**


	8. The Chase

**The Chase**

Luke and Matt quickly moved through the old house, checking around corners. So far, the entire place had been cleared except for one final room at the back. The place wasn't very big, so it hadn't taken long to get through it and discover that it was completely empty.

"Holy-" Luke muttered as they stepped into a room, his eyes widening. Matt flipped on a light switch as he shouted clear to the other officers that had been with them. A few of the locals were there as were a few of the state investigators. They hadn't known if Walker would be there with Daisy, so had brought a rather large group just in case.

"He made a shrine," Matt said, looking around the small room, taking in the seemingly hundreds of photographs and news clippings hung up on the walls. Some looked to be pages ripped out of yearbooks.

"Are they all Daisy?" Luke asked, stepping up to take a closer look.

"The barn and tool shed are clear. Holy fuck," Ryan said as he walked into the room, holstering his own gun and looking around. "Is this…"

"Don't touch anything," Matt said. Ryan walked up to one wall.

"These are from high school," he said. Matt walked over to him. "These photos and those are her articles from our high school newspaper. The sheriff's been stalking her since then?"

"Longer than that," Luke said, glancing over at them. "These have got to be elementary school."

"He's obsessed with her," Matt said. "All of this… it's been about Daisy. But why?" He pulled out his phone and dialed up Prentiss. "Yea… you should see this place… He's got a room covered in photographs of Daisy."

"There's some of the other women too," Ryan said. "Looks like surveillance photos. Probably from watching them to learn their routines."

"Looks like Reid's hunch was right," Matt said with a sigh. "They're not here. Has Garcia found any other property?" He was silent as he listened to Emily on the other end and nodded. "Got it. We'll head back in." He then hung up and looked around the room.

"You know, I got a creepy vibe from him the day we got here. He was always particularly attentive to Daisy," Luke said. "What do you know about him?" Ryan looked over at him and shook his head.

"He moved here when we were in high school and joined the police force. He had been working with one in Tulsa, I think… At least that's where he said he transferred from. I didn't really get to know him until I joined the force," Ryan said. "He was always a bit… strange. But you get a lot of interestin' types in a small town like this."

"He's related to the pastor – nephew, I think is what Reid was thinking," Matt said. They both looked over at Ryan again.

"I don't remember anything about that whole thing… The Fischers didn't have any kids our age," Ryan said. "And no one really talks about them. Not like they did with the Whites and such. I didn't even know Walker was related to them before all this."

"We should head back. See if they've gotten Fischer to talk," Luke said.

"Let's go."

* * *

First chance he got, Spencer sped off to the police station, eager for an update. He had spent a fair amount of time in the library, staring at the board in the hopes it would magically give him all the answers. But he knew that it wouldn't. It was likely that Daisy hadn't known what was coming when the sheriff showed up at her house.

"Did they find anything?" he asked as he rushed up to JJ and Emily. The two looked worriedly at each other and then back at Spencer.

"He had a shrine," JJ said. "It was all about Daisy. Clippings of her articles. Photos. Dated all the way back to high school and some even before that."

"But they weren't there?" he asked. They shook their heads.

"Wherever he's been taking them, it's not the house," Emily said. "We didn't find anything there besides the shrine. Garcia's looking for other properties, but it's slow going. The county hasn't digitalized all their property records yet." He glanced towards the interview room where the minister was still seated.

"Has anyone talked to him?" he asked.

"He won't say anything," Emily replied. "He's completely shut down."

"Does he know that Walker's taken her?" Spencer asked. Both women just looked at each other. He then started towards the interview room.

"What are you doing?" JJ called out.

"Maybe he'll speak to me," Spencer said, pushing the door open.

"I'm not sure-"

"He knows something," Spencer said, cutting off JJ. He walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. The man calmly stared up at him. It was a bit unnerving how calm he was considering how everyone else was rushing around in a near panic.

"I know that you're related to the sheriff. Right now, I need you to tell me where he might be," Spencer said.

"I don't-"

"Drop the act and tell me! He's got Daisy!" Spencer shouted. Mitch's eyes widened as he sat back. "He's the one who's doing this, isn't he? Because we haven't found anything that connects you to these murders." Mitch looked down at his hands, still saying nothing. "Why are you covering for him?"

"Because he's got no one else," Mitch said. "It wasn't his fault… he… never had a father. My sister never told me who his daddy was… I looked out for her and Randy as much as I could."

"You thought the right way to look out for him was to cover for him?" Spencer asked.

"He was only 14 at the time. I was sure he didn't understand what he was doing," Mitch said, still not looking up at Spencer. "I was going to get him help… and then those little girls started telling stories and… it all got out of control…"

"I don't care about what happened then right now, I need to know where he would go," Spencer said. "Any sort of barn or property? He has Daisy and could kill her. We don't have much time – it's already been an hour." Mitch looked up at Spencer, his eyes wide.

"Surely he wouldn't hurt her," he said. Spencer frowned. "I know it was wrong of him – what he did - but he was convinced that he was in love with her."

"Where is he?" Spencer asked again. Mitch sighed heavily.

"If he's anywhere, he might be at the old Fischer farm," he said. Spencer threw a pad of paper on the table with a pen.

"Write it down."

* * *

The caravan of SUVs careened down the country roads as fast as they could go without skidding off on the gravel. Reid bounced in his seat, silently urging the car to go faster.

"We'll get there in time," Emily said from the driver's seat.

"I hope so," Reid said, searching the dark countryside for any sign of life. The farm was remote and far outside of the town, which made it perfect for nefarious means. The sheriff could easily abduct the women and bring them here for whatever he wanted without ever having to go through town. He then could take country roads to the drop sites.

Reid hoped that they weren't too late. Nearly two hours had gone by since he discovered Daisy missing and he wasn't sure what Walker had planned for her. They had forced him to push up his timeline and he was possibly devolving. Quickly. They had forced him to improvise and that never turned out well.

"It's just up here," Emily said, glancing at the GPS. She slowed down and started down a small lane that was nearly overtaken by large trees. Almost before the car had come to a stop, Reid was jumping out of the front seat, pulling his gun out. He knew the plan but didn't want to waste any time.

As he cleared the tree line, he could make out a large dilapidated house that looked dark and empty. Next to it sat large barn with lights coming through a slightly opened door.

"Reid, wait!" Emily hissed from somewhere behind him. He slowed down slightly but didn't stop moving until he was at a door. Slowly, he glanced around it inside, seeing the sheriff pacing. Daisy was tied up in a chair, glaring at him. She was a bit battered, but otherwise looked in one piece.

"I just wanted us to be together!" Walker shouted.

"Easy," Emily said softly as they crept in, their guns drawn. Just behind them, Reid could hear the others moving around the barn to various other entrances so they would have the sheriff surrounded. Reid had wanted to be the one to talk him down, but Emily insisted that she be the one – Spencer was too worked up.

Spencer could feel his heart pounding as they ducked behind old farm equipment, edging closer.

"I could never love a monster…"

There was a growl of rage. Reid quickly stepped out from a bunch of boxes, his gun up. He saw Walker start charging at Daisy, a hunting knife raised in his hand. Without thinking, he took aim and fired off one shot. Walker's face quickly contorted into one of surprise as he fell to one knee.

"I've got him covered. Get to Daisy," Emily said as the others rushed in. Spencer quickly put his gun up and ran to her side. She was staring at the sheriff, her eyes wide in shock.

"Daisy!"

Daisy looked up at Spencer, blinking.

"I'm fine," she said automatically as he worked to untie her.

"You're bleeding," he said.

"It doesn't hurt," she said, looking back over at Randy, who was now surrounded by people. Spencer pulled her up and started leading her out of the barn towards a waiting ambulance that had pulled up while they were inside.

"You might have a concussion," he said.

"I'm fine," she said again, her voice far-off.

"Seriously, you need to go to the hospital," he said.

"It's 20 minutes away in another town," she said as he sat her down in the opened back and paramedic stepped up and started looking her over.

"The cut looks minor, but we should get her over to check for other injuries," he said, glancing at Reid.

"I don't want to go to the hospital," Daisy said, starting to come back at bit. She pushed the paramedic away from her as he tried to clean up some of the blood on her temple and cheek.

"You could have-"

"I said I don't want to go," she nearly shouted, glaring up at him. "At least not right now. I need to get back to the station and talk to him."

"Talk to who, Daisy?" Spencer asked.

"The youth pastor," she said, turning her glare to him.

"You really should-"

"Do not tell me what I should do. If you won't take me, I'll find my own way there even if I have to walk all the way back into town barefoot," she said firmly. Spencer stared at her a moment before finally nodding.

"I'll take you there. But then you're going to the hospital to get checked out," he replied.

"Fine, but I'm not staying the night," she retorted. Spencer sighed and looked to the paramedic, silently apologizing.

"Will she be okay if we put off the check-up for another hour?" he asked. The paramedic frowned as he looked back at the still glaring Daisy.

"I don't like it, but if you get her over to the regional hospital in an hour, she should be fine," he said, relenting. Daisy jumped up and started walking away.

"Good. Let's go."

* * *

Daisy stomped into the police station later, her eyes lit up with rage. She was still barefoot and her clothes were dirty. There was a cut on her temple, which was already starting to bruise and dried blood went down her cheek and chin. Rossi looked over, confused. She looked like she needed to be at a hospital, not here.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, walking up to her then back at Spencer, who was just behind her. Daisy ignored him as she kept walking towards the interview room.

"She wanted to talk to him," Spencer said.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Rossi asked.

"She wouldn't take no for an answer," he replied, quickly catching up to her. Daisy charged into the room, the door slamming against the wall and causing the old man sitting there to jump.

"Daisy," he said softly. "I was… praying that they would find you in time…"

"I don't need your goddamn prayers!" she snapped. "He would have killed me… and he did kill those other women!"

"I didn't what he was doing-"

"Bullshit. You had to have known. It was all over the papers," she responded.

"I… I did read a few things," he admitted. "And when the FBI showed up, I figured that… well, it must have been about what happened back then… but I didn't know that he had moved back here. His mother took him out of state and I hadn't spoken to him in years."

"You knew. This whole time, you knew what he did and you didn't say anything. Didn't do anything!" she shouted at him. Reid quietly walked in behind her, shutting the door.

"I tried to help him, but his mother-"

"You should have turned him in!" she shouted. "Why did you cover for him!?" He sighed and rubbed his face.

"I thought it was just a… childish mistake. That he could be saved," he said softly.

"He hurt a five-year-old girl!" Daisy shouted, slamming her hands on the table. "ME!"

"Daisy, I think that's enough," Spencer said, moving to restrain her.

"Don't touch me, Reid!" she shouted, her eyes still on the man across from her. "Because you didn't turn him in, four women - four innocent women - are dead. My friends. Are. Dead. You may not be held responsible by law, but _I_ will hold you responsible and I hope you burn in hell with your damn nephew." She then spun around and left the room.

Reid looked over at the door and then back at Fischer. The old man seemed to crumple as he dropped his head into his hands and his shoulders began shaking.

"She's right… I could have stopped this," he said. Reid stood silently watching. "This is my fault. I should have… I should have told the truth." He looked up at Spencer. "Is she… is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know," Spencer finally said. "I like to think that with time, she will. But I do know there are four families out there that won't get to see their daughters and wives again. And there's a little girl out there who will never see her mother again."

Mitch was silent as he looked back down at his hands as he shook his head.

"I should have said something…" he murmured again. Reid didn't say anything, just walked out of the room and shut the door behind him. He looked over and saw Daisy pacing slightly as she waited on him, a concerned Rossi standing nearby.

"Let's get this over with," Daisy said, looking up at him. "I want to get a shower and to bed." She then turned and stormed out of the station. Spencer sighed and moved to follow.

"Good luck," Rossi said.

* * *

Reid stood nearby with Emily, watching as the ER doctor looked over Daisy. She had been silent the entire ride over and was only answering direct questions about her injuries and pain level.

"We found everything in the barn," Emily said. "Lighter fluid, tools. It was all there. He didn't bother to hide any of it. I'm sure the forensics will all come back linking to the four women."

"Probably thought the remote location would be enough," Reid said, looking back over at her. "Granted we still don't know what his final plan was."

"They took him to a larger hospital in Oklahoma City. I sent JJ and Rossi up to talk to him as soon as he's out of surgery," she said. Spencer nodded.

"This was all about Daisy," he said. Emily nodded.

"Rossi said Fischer spilled everything after we left to go out to the barn," Emily said. "Randy was born and raised here. And he had always been fascinated with the Whites and Daisy. Followed her around. He caught them once… was already making plans to move him and his mom to the City when the little girls started spreading the story. It got mixed up somehow, and they ended up telling everyone that it was Fischer, not Randy. He was run out of town and he lost touch with Randy and his mother."

Spencer sighed and continued looking over at Daisy. She frowned at the doctor and started shaking her head. He had a feeling they wanted her to stay overnight and she was fighting it.

She then hopped off the bed and started walking away, the doctor following her. Thankfully someone had gotten her a pair of hospital slippers. She had changed into a pair of sweats that were a couple sizes too big while someone from the forensics team had taken her clothing into evidence. They had been here an hour already as she was examined. She managed to stay quiet and calm as they took photos and gathered what physical evidence that they could.

"Ms. White, you really should stay…"

"No," Daisy said. She stopped and looked up at Emily and Spencer.

"Can we go?" she asked.

"Sure, but we need to debrief you," Emily said. Daisy nodded.

"Fine. Can we do it at the house?" she asked. "I really just want to go home right now and put on my own clothes."

"Of course…"

* * *

**And now the story from the other side. One more chapter to go! Thanks for reading and following!**


	9. From Small Towns to Big Cities

**From Small Towns to Big Cities**

Daisy stood on the covered porch in her grandmother's room, a heavy cardigan wrapped around her even though it was a balmy night, her hair still wet from the 45-minute shower she had taken after speaking with the FBI agents, recounting everything that had happened from when she arrived at home earlier. She wasn't sure what time it was or how long she had been standing there, but she knew it had to be really late. Her head still ached from being knocked out, but she almost welcomed the pain. It was the one thing keeping her grounded.

"Daisy?"

She turned, seeing Spencer standing in the open doorway of the room. She motioned for him to join her, not saying anything.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly. She shrugged.

"I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel," she said honestly. She then laughed shortly. "Interviewed all these victims, researched and investigated all these crimes… and I don't know how to feel. Funny, really."

"I'm sure that no one really knows how they are supposed to feel after going through something like that," he said, his thoughts turning to his own experiences over the years. Losing Maeve. The murder charges. He had had his own share of tragedy and trauma. And yet, he stood here, relatively normal. Taking a deep breath, he looked over at her. "I know it doesn't seem like it now, but you can get through this."

Daisy glanced at him and then returned to staring out at the countryside as a harsh laugh escaped her lips.

"Right… I get through this while my four friends are buried in the town cemetery. What about their families? How do they get through it?" she asked. "And how do I move on with my life, knowing that I could have prevented it." A tear fell down her bruised cheek.

"Daisy, there's nothing you could have-"

"Save it, Reid," she said harshly, cutting him off. "If I had just told my parents back then… the truth… I could have, this wouldn't have happened. Randy Walker would have been locked up or… something… back then. And four women would still be alive today."

"You can't blame yourself for that," Spencer said, taking a step towards her. "You were a child."

"Yea, well, even children know that it's better to tell the truth," she said. Reid just stared at her, wondering just why out of everything that had come out that day, this was what she was fixated on. Not finding out what had happened to her or being abducted and nearly killed. She was focused on the idea that she could have done something to save her friends and didn't.

"Daisy… you were a child. You were afraid. That's natural. That's what every person who's been in that situation goes through. And from what I've heard from you and others… I think your parents and your grandmother… they knew… and they believed you," he said softly. "But you can't put this on yourself… you couldn't have known what would happen. You didn't even tell them to do it…"

Daisy was silent as she wiped the tears away from her cheeks, still staring out.

"And you definitely couldn't have known that years later, Randy Walker would do what he did," Reid finished. "He's sick. And didn't get the help that he needed back then. None of this is your fault. Randy Walker chose to attack you as a child. And he chose to murder your school friends. That's not on you. But because of you, he's going to jail for a very long time… may even get the death penalty. And now he can't hurt anyone else…"

Daisy sniffed slightly and swallowed.

"How do I even begin moving on from this?" she whispered before looking over at him. "I've seen so many others do it, but now that it's me… I don't even know where to start…"

"You start the way that anyone does. One day at a time. Baby steps," he said. "You start by getting out of bed in the morning." She nodded, hugging herself tightly. Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, handing it over to her.

"My offer still stands. D.C. and New York aren't that far apart. And you can call me at any time… I have my own experiences… I'll listen," he said softly. Daisy looked down at it, her brow furrowed and then back up at his face.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

"Too much to get into tonight, but just know that I've been there," he said. She finally reached out and took the card, looking it over.

"I'll keep this in mind," she said, turning back to the railing. Spencer sighed and turned, starting to walk back into the house, sensing she wanted to be alone.

"I can't write it," she said loudly, causing him to stop and look back at her. "The book… I don't think I can write it. I won't, actually."

"I'm sure it would be hard-"

"That's not it… I just… I don't want my story out there. It's… I just don't," she said, not looking at him. "Everyone in this damn town has always clamored to know everything they could about my family – even making shit up when they couldn't get anything. I don't want to give them this."

"You should do what is best for you," Spencer said. When she didn't reply, he turned and continued walking, not stopping until he got to his own room across the hall. As he started packing up his things, he couldn't help but glance towards the shut door of Daisy's room, wondering if she truly was going to be okay.

* * *

"How do you think she's handling this?" Luke asked as they stood in the foyer later the next day, preparing to head to the airstrip. "She hasn't been down yet."

"I doubt she'll stay long," Emily said, glancing towards the staircase. "I know I wouldn't. And she's got a job and life in New York. She'll need to get back to that at some point."

Almost as though she knew they were talking about her, there were light footsteps on the stairs. They all looked over, seeing a tired and worn looking Daisy coming down.

"Grams would skin me alive if she knew I let you guys leave without saying goodbye," Daisy said, a small smile on her face, though it didn't reach her eyes. "You all ready?"

"Just about to load up the cars," JJ said. She walked over to the young woman and pulled her into a hug. Daisy's eyebrows rose as she stiffly returned it. "We really appreciate your help. And… D.C.'s not that far from New York."

"I know," Daisy replied. She glanced around the group cautiously, worried someone else would want to hug her.

"And thanks for putting us up," Emily added. She handed her a card. "Keep in touch." Daisy nodded as Emily turned to the rest of the group. "Let's go."

They filed out of the manor, glancing at Daisy, who stood in the doorway watching them.

"Do you really think she'll be okay?" Luke asked as they drove off.

"I hope so," Tara said. Spencer said nothing, just continued to watch her out of the window before they continued on. "But I do hope she keeps in touch."

"I have a feeling this isn't the last we've heard of Daisy White," Luke said, glancing at Spencer. The younger man didn't notice and the rest fell silent. Hopefully this wouldn't be the last time.

* * *

_Six Months Later_

"I don't know about you, but I am tired and ready to get home," Matt said as the group walked through the main building at Quantico.

"What, no after work celebratory drink?" Luke asked with a grin.

"The wife and kids are calling," Matt replied. Luke looked over at Rossi.

"You know my answer," he replied with a smile.

"Anyone else?" Luke asked.

"In," said JJ and Emily at the same time.

"Same here," said Tara. They all looked to Reid, the final holdout.

"Why not?" he said, smiling.

"Do I hear you planning drinks? Oh, I'm in," Penelope said as she walked up to them. "But before that… Reid, you have a visitor. Or well, I guess all of you, but she did say Reid specifically." The group stopped and glanced around at each other, wondering who it could be. Reid stepped away from them and pushed the door open. His eyebrows rose in surprise.

Perched on his desk was Daisy. Upon hearing the others enter, she hopped off, placing a paperweight she had been playing with down and smiling warmly.

"I didn't know you two kept in touch," Luke whispered to him as he walked past him.

"Not a lot… an email here or there," Reid replied, walking up to her. "Daisy… what a surprise." The reporter shrugged as the rest of the group meandered over.

"In town for a story. Thought I'd drop by and see how the old team is doing," she said.

In just six months since they left Oklahoma, it seemed there was a change in her. Where before she had seemed standoffish and serious, she was now smiling. Her hair was down in loose waves, though she was still dressed rather casually. She had lost the glasses and was wearing a bit of makeup.

"It seems New York has been treating you well," Tara said, walking up to shake her hand. Daisy surprised her even more by pulling her in for a hug.

"I won't lie, I needed to get back home to New York. It's done wonders," she said, stepping back from her.

"What story are you working on?" Matt asked.

"Well… you. After everything that went down in Oklahoma, my publisher thought I should write about the BAU," Daisy said pleasantly. The group all stared at her a moment before glancing around at each other.

"Us?" Prentiss said cautiously. Daisy nodded, her face calm. She then burst out laughing.

"Christ, the look on your faces. No, I'm not writing about you. I'm here to cover a string of coed murders," she said. "Surprised you guys aren't on that one."

"We just got back from Phoenix," Emily said. "Suppose that's why. Plus, we don't get invited on every murder that happens in D.C." Daisy shrugged.

"No biggie. But seriously, since I was in town, I thought I'd drop by and say hi. I'll be here for a couple months or so," she said. "Probably going back and forth between here and New York for a bit longer after that." She glanced over at Reid. "You guys finished for the day?"

"Yea, we were just going out for a drink if you want to join us," Luke said.

"Sounds good. Lead the way…"

* * *

Reid couldn't help but stare at Daisy as they all sat around a table at their favorite quiet bar. She had been entertaining them with stories on a few smaller assignments she had taken on after returning to New York, though carefully skimmed away from anything related to the case in Oklahoma. She had been back on the crime desk a few months and working closely with the NYPD.

The fact that she was so upfront with information about herself was a near 180 from the woman they had met in Oklahoma, and he wasn't exactly sure what had happened. They had kept in touch, but even then, she didn't really talk much about what she had been feeling or going through. Mostly discussing books and history - a common interest of both.

"You guys up for another round?" she asked, standing. After a chorus of 'yes', she grinned and moved towards the bar.

"I'll help," Reid said, pushing out of his chair as well. He waited until she had ordered and was leaning against the bar before speaking again. "You seem… different…" Daisy shrugged.

"Guess I realized that it wasn't doing me any good to push people away, and well, you guys didn't exactly meet me at a great time. I'm normally a bit more outgoing," she replied, starting to play with a stack of napkins. She glanced over at Reid. "I, ah, started going to this therapist. My boss kinda made me a few months after I got back… Holed myself up in my apartment for a long time… Cut myself off completely..." Reid remained quiet, allowing her to speak at her own pace. "Drank. A lot. And then got my ass handed to me by a trauma therapist… said I wasn't going to do anyone any good if I continued on like I was… She helped me work through a lot of shit."

"You could have talked to me," Reid said, leaning a bit closer. "We've been writing back and forth this whole time…"

"I know. But… I didn't want to burden you with it. And part of me felt like I needed to get myself out of it. I was a bit ashamed. Here I am, a seasoned investigative reporter and I couldn't deal with my own shit," she said, still looking at the napkins. "But… I got better." She then looked up at him as she slid her hand into her pocket and pulled something out. She put it down on the bar and slid it over.

"What's this?" he asked, picking it up, seeing that it was a flash drive.

"I wrote it," she said. Reid looked up at her, surprised. The last time they had spoken about the book, Daisy had said there was no way she could write it. She didn't want the world to know her story.

"I thought you weren't going to," he replied.

"I wasn't. But then my therapist suggested that it might help me move on. If I put it all down on paper. Just to get it out of my head so I wasn't thinking about it so much," she said with a sigh. "My publisher doesn't know about it. I intentionally didn't tell him and he's been kind enough not to force me on it. I honestly don't know if I can publish it, but… I wanted someone to read it."

"Thank you for trusting me with this," Reid said, putting it into his pocket. He glanced at the others, who were laughing about something and then looked back over at her. "How are you? Really?" Daisy smiled sadly.

"Taking it a day at a time," she said. "I don't think I'll be able to step back foot in Whitehall for a long time. I even started on plans to sell the manor just so I wouldn't have anything to pull me back there, but… I couldn't. There are a lot of good memories in that house and it's part of the family… I've hired Mrs. Battle to look after it full-time. Been leasing it out to the town government for pretty cheap to use for events and such."

"That seems good," he said.

"It's a start," Daisy said. "And getting back to work has helped a lot. Kept me focused and moving. I've gotten back in touch with several friends that had fallen by the wayside while I was focused on my career as well. My therapist says that I'm 'making progress.'" She laughed softly.

"For what it's worth, you do seem a lot better," Reid said. "It's good to see you opening up more. I think you've laughed more tonight than what we saw the entire time we were in Oklahoma."

"Isn't laughter supposed to be the best medicine?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him as she smiled.

"That's what I hear," he replied. She looked away, returning to playing with the napkins as the bartender started putting drinks in front of them.

"I should be thanking you," she said, glancing at him. "The emails… they helped too."

"I told you before we left, if you need a friend, I'm here," he said. Daisy sighed as she pushed up from the bar.

"I'm going to need it. I'll have to go back to Oklahoma City… for the trial," she said, starting to arrange the glasses in a way where she could carry half.

"You're testifying?" he asked. Daisy nodded.

"He did confess to me first. And well… I'm the only victim who survived. Though he didn't really get a chance to do much," she said. "The cavalry arrived just in time."

"They'll probably ask for one of us to be there as well," he said.

"Figured," she said. "Draw straws yet?"

"I could go," Reid said immediately. "I mean… if you want me to." Daisy smiled and nodded.

"I'd like that," she said, starting to walk back to the table. Reid picked up the remaining drinks and followed. They settled back at the table and continued on with lighthearted conversation until the drinks were done and exhaustion was starting to take hold of the team.

They all stood and said their goodbyes outside the bar, though Reid lingered, hoping to speak with Daisy alone again.

"So, you're here for a few months?" he asked. Daisy nodded.

"Probably not full-time for very long. I'll go back and forth a bit," she said. "New York isn't that far away."

"We should hang out more while you're here. If you want to, that is," he said. Daisy thought a moment before smiling and nodded her head.

"I would like that," she said.

"We don't have a case at the moment, so if you want, we could get dinner tomorrow. If you're not busy with your case," he said.

"Sure… I think I can swing that," Daisy said. She then glanced down at her phone, noting the time. "But I should get going. Got an early morning at the police station and I'm sure you're exhausted. Plus, my Uber is almost here." She looked up at him as she dug around in her coat pocket and pulled out a card, holding it out. "My number and such." Reid took it and glanced down, seeing her name and contact information on a New York Times business card. "See you around, Spencer."

"Don't be a stranger," he replied as he looked up and noticed her starting to back away. She chuckled.

"Seems Oklahoma rubbed off on you a bit," she said.

"Maybe just a little," he said. Daisy laughed again and waved, then turned around to walk away. "Daisy…"

She stopped and turned, wondering what it was he wanted to say.

"I am serious, though. You can talk to me about it," he said. She nodded.

"I know. And I will… just, baby steps and all," she said. "See you tomorrow."

"See you then," Reid said. He started to back away, though kept watching as she turned and walked away, glancing over her shoulder at him before walking over a waiting car and getting in.

Sighing, Reid turned and started walking in the direction of his apartment building. He had spent a decent amount of time worrying about Daisy and how she was taking everything. Especially when she had gone for six months emailing back and forth without mentioning Randy Walker or the murders of her old school friends.

But after tonight, he worried less. It seemed like she was going to be okay. What's more, it seemed like she wasn't going anywhere. He couldn't help but smile to himself. It didn't seem so bad to have Daisy White play a bit bigger role in his life.

"Baby steps and all…"

* * *

**Here we are at the end. Originally, I had intended this to be a romance with Daisy and Spencer, but then realized that in the timespan I had planned – and taking into consideration their personalities and characters - it didn't make sense. So, decided to go with a friendship and hope for something more later on. Much happier with that.**

**Thanks for following, reading and reviewing!**


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